<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Missing Number by CaptainCatra</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29179701">The Missing Number</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainCatra/pseuds/CaptainCatra'>CaptainCatra</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stranger Things (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:02:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,767</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29179701</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainCatra/pseuds/CaptainCatra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Not every child from the experiments had been stolen from their family's, one managed to escape the grasps of the bad men who wanted to take her away. Having being saved by putting her in the orphanage, losing her in the system so they couldn't track her, adopted by a family who loved her.</p><p>Then one day, she meets a girl who is just like her.</p><p>(This story is credited to Commander_Shepard who brought this story to life.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eleven | Jane Hopper/Original Female Character(s), Will Byers/Mike Wheeler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>(This Chapter is credited to Commander_Shepard).</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Something is coming. Something hungry for blood.” Mike set the scene across the tabletop, “A shadow grows on the wall behind you, swallowing you in darkness...It is almost here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida gripped the edge of her seat, compelled forward like the rest. “What is it?” She breathed in unison with Will.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dustin crossed his arms, fretting his lip between his teeth. “What if it’s the Demorgogon?” He suggested as a hush fell over the table. Will tilted back in his seat with a huff as Dustin continued on, “Oh, Jesus. We’re so screwed if it's the Demogorgon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not the Demogorgon!” Lucas argued.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry. Even if it is, we’ve got this.” Frida rolled for initiative and struck 12. Fair. All eyes were on her. “I cast a Protective Barrier for the leader of the group.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone but Will groaned, Will slanted her a gracious grin. “Thanks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh come on! We need to rush in fireballs blazing!” Dustin thrust his palms up to the ceiling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A little precaution never killed anybody.” Frida explained.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike cracked a grin, “An army of </span>
  <em>
    <span>troglodytes</span>
  </em>
  <span> charge into the chamber!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dustin snickered, “Troglodytes?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucas shrugged with a vindictive smirk, “Told ya it wasn’t the Demogorgon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike let the dust settle, everyone already had their next move on their minds when Mike asked, “Ah...do you hear that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida didn’t hear anything. “Hear what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>“BOOM!”</span> <span>Mike slammed the table and everyone jumped in alarm. He lowered his gaze, “That didn’t come from the troglodytes. No, that...that came from something else.”</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone exchanged a look of concern before Mike confirmed their previous fears. The Demogorgon made its entrance. The pewter casting glinted menacingly as it was placed on the board.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We are in </span>
  <em>
    <span>deep</span>
  </em>
  <span> shit.” Dustin stated the obvious, probably just to pepper in his new favorite word.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will, what will your action be?” Mike hurried.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-I dunno!” He scrubbed his palms down his face and squinted at the pieces, at the die in his hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fireball him!” Lucas suggested.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d have to roll a 13 or higher!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida shook her head. “That’s too brazen, it won’t work without— “</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cast a protection spell!” Dustin interjected. “Frida’s isn’t going to be enough.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What!? Yes it will!” She stuck her tongue out at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucas flushed their ideas, “Don’t be a pussy! Just fireball him!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cast protection!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know what to do, just go for it.” Frida backed up Will. She didn’t have time to rationalize it to the rest of the gang as the Dungeon Master grew impatient. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Enough!” Mike silenced, “The Demogorgon is tired of your silly human bickering! It stomps towards you! BOOM!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida’s palms dampened. The entire campaign rested on Will’s decision. His roll.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fireball him!” Lucas begged.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Another stomp! Boom!” The Demogorgon closed in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cast Protection!” Dustin stood up to proclaim. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Demogorgon roars in anger!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida could feel all of their thoughts slurrying around. Decisions flung out without much guidance. She did her best not to listen but found it hard to shut off the noise when everyone clamored with excitement. Like a party, she could hear through the walls. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just don’t put your ear to the wall and listen.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“</span>
  </em>
  <span>Fireball!” Will finally conceded, practically hurling his dice across the table. They skittered to the floor and everyone scrambled to read them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where’d they go?” Lucas tried to follow their trail.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh God, you think it was a 13?” Dustin hovered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida dropped to her knees and started looking for them to no avail. “Which direction did they go?” She peeked beneath the table and chairs only to be met with dust bunnies.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their mother shouted for them from the kitchen, “Mike! Frida!” Only Frida seemed to hear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Guys—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh god, oh god.” Dustin paced while Will fussed about not being able to find them still. Mike scrambled at the bottom of the stairs, his head shot up when the basement door swung wide.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mike! Hello? Frida! I know you guys can hear me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What!? We’re in the middle of a campaign, mom!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You mean the end? It’s fifteen after.” She tapped her watchface impatiently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Mom— wait!” Frida called after her. Mike was usually too hotheaded to get his point across, but Frida knew without taking a peek at his thoughts just what was going on. Though, Mike did proclaim that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> was the rationale one. He followed her into the kitchen now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mom, just 20 more minutes!” He whined, doing him no favors. Mom didn’t like when he did that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’d be wrapping up by now, but a roll went awry and some dice got lost. We only need a few minutes.” Frida persuaded, sidling closer to her mother. “I’ll do all the dishes tonight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’ll do all the dishes tonight!” Mike echoed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mom sighed, a smile tugging at her lips. “It’s a school night, guys. I have </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> put Holly to bed. You can finish your story next weekend. Besides, it’s your father’s turn to do the dishes tonight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But that’ll ruin the flow!” Michael insisted. “I’m serious, mom! The campaign took two weeks to plan. How was I supposed to know it was gonna take ten hours?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes widened, “You guys have been playing for </span>
  <em>
    <span>ten</span>
  </em>
  <span> hours?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida knew that was the end of that, her eyes were getting a bit tired anyways. Nothing could stop Mike’s Permission Routine. Mom says no? Time to check out how Dad feels about the— oh, another no.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kids, I think you should listen to your mother.” Dad responded dryly, giving the television set an irritated thwack. “Piece of junk…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike groaned dramatically and Frida left him to trot back down the stairs. She stopped midway when she heard the others talking amongst themselves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, hey! I got it!” Will cheered, his fist closed around transparent blue. “Does the seven count?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucas frowned, checking his palms. “Aw. It was a seven…? Did Mike see it?” He whispered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Will shook his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then it doesn’t count,” Lucas affirmed, shucking on his member's jacket. Frida backtracked up the stairs before anyone could see her peeking in. Mike was already waiting in the carport to see everyone off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dustin kicked his bike stand in. “Somethings wrong with your sister. Nancy, that is.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” Frida asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s got a stick up her butt.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucas tsked, saddling up on his bike. “Yeah, cause she’s dating that douchebag Steven Harrington.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida’s palms began to sweat at the mention of any Cool Kids. Steve had been there on the sidelines that day. Watching. Not saying anything while those girls teased her. She shook the image out of her head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yep. He’s turning her into a real jerk.” Dustin surmised, pedaling down the driveway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s always been a jerk.” Mike corrected.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nu-Uh. She used to be cool. Like that time she dressed up as an elf for our Elderfree campaign?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah! Her rogue elf was the best companion.” Frida agreed, only for Mike to brush it away. Still sour that Nancy called their Campaign sessions lame.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. What was that, like four years ago?” Mike scoffed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just sayin’!” Dustin had the last word as he zipped down the road with Lucas close behind. Will hung back for a second.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was a seven. The roll. It was a seven. The Demogorgon, it got me.” He sighed, following the others. “See you guys tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The garage light flickered as they blipped in and out of darkness and streetlamps. Frida didn’t think to remind Will of the Protection Barrier she cast on him.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The phone rang ominously early in the sleepy morning. Frida rubbed the back of her neck as a tingle flitted down down her spine. The table rattled when Mom got up to answer the ringing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida spooned syrupy eggs into her mouth, tentatively excited about the HAM radio Mr.Clarke said would arrive today.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Joyce, Will’s mother, spoke on the other end of the phone. Her voice muffled, but frantic. Mom’s face pinched in confusion as she listened. She fussed at Mike and Nancy to quit bickering as she jostled Holly on her hip.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, he left here a little bit after 8:00.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida stopped chewing and swallowed audibly. Her stomach bubbled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why? He’s not home?” Mom paused and looked back to the kitchen table with raised brows. “Oh. Okay. Bye.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sat back down without a word, but the air around her was pensive. Frida took...just a peek.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What do you mean ‘did he stay the night’ Joyce. Christ. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida turned to say something to Mike, but thought better of it. No. It’d only worry him. Besides, Mom was thinking about how Will was diligent enough to leave for school early. As much as she wanted it to, that didn’t put her at ease. She frowned down at her plate, saying little until they left out on their bikes to school.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fall was setting in harder and harder everyday. The chilly wind cut right through her jacket as she pedaled down the road. She didn’t see Will on the way there, but that wasn’t unusual. The unusual things was his absence at the bike rack. And the parking lot and the school yard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s weird. I don’t see him.” Mike sighed, fiddling with his backpack straps.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucas locked his bike into the rack. “I’m telling you, his mom’s right. He probably just went to class early again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, he’s always paranoid Gursky’s gonna give him another pop quiz. He barely recovered from the last one.” Dustin chuckled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida stopped in her tracks, another burn at the base of her neck. Chills broke across her skin as malicious thoughts poured in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Rejects. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Idiots.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Weak. Weak. Weak.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“</span>
  </em>
  <span>Step right up, ladies and gentlemen! Step right up and get your tickets to the freakshow.” Troy Walsh swaggered up to them with his buddies in tow. Postured assholes in the greasy midst of puberty. “Who do you think would make more money in a freak show?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sauntered closer and punched each boy in the chest to punctuate his words “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Midnight, Frogface, Toothless, or Fruity?”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He open palm shoved her. “She acts like a boy. Looks like one, too. Just treatin’ her like one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida’s face burned and she could see Troy’s girlfriend, Sierra, peeking around the brick corner with a smile. Vivid memories she fought to suppress surged to the surface.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sierra braiding Frida’s hair at lunch time. The two of them passing increasingly affectionate letters between class. Sharing a bike ride home. Sharing a bus seat on the school field trip. Holding hands beneath her jacket and whispering secrets to one another.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lies. Performance art Sierra had scripted together with her friends. A cruel, well thought out prank. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t tell anyone, Frida. I’ve never felt this way about a girl before…’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Of course, Sierra. Your secret is safe with me, I promise.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida’s heart started pounding. Sweat gathered on her back, making her tee cling to her skin. She couldn’t get enough air. Couldn’t fight the gnawing itch to invade their thoughts and minds. The invisible tethers began to unspool.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another shove, this time delivered to Dustin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Toothless. I put my money on Toothless.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve told you a million times my teeth are coming in! It’s called cleidocranial dysplasia.” His explanation was mocked in a crude imitation of his voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do the arm thing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go on, do it freak. Don’t make me wait.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dustin released a rattling sigh before rolling his left arm and knocking the shoulder joint out of place with a wet pop.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bullies grimaced and told them before walking away, “God, that’s sick. Gets me every time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike tried to ease the tension. “It’s kinda cool! It’s like you have superpowers or something, like Mr. Fantastic!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dustin shouldered his backpack on again. “Cept I can’t fight evil with it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you just haven’t figured out how to yet. Maybe you can throw a punch so hard your shoulder needs to be able to dislocate or it'll explode your torso from the force!” She made a big show of fanning her hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s easy for you to be comfortable with it.” Dustin chided, alluding to her telekinesis with a hint of jealousy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Believe me, you don’t want this.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida had to metaphorically cotton her ears in the school halls to avoid the temptation. There usually wasn’t anything good to be found in the adolescent minds around her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She did scan the crowds funnelling into homeroom for Will and came up fruitless. The entire day trudged by near uneventfully .</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The final school bell rang and Frida tried. She tried to ignore it, to tell herself that it must be a doctor’s appointment or something. And yet she couldn’t stop the sense of dread that’d followed her throughout the day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Where are you, Will?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike, Lucas, and Dustin were all perched excitedly at Mr.Clarke’s desk. Frida almost forgot!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, did it come today?” Mike asked with a cheesing grin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mr.Clarke responded heavily at length with a sigh, “Sorry, guys. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but…it came!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No way! So fast?” Frida asked as he ushered them out of the classroom and down the hall to the media lab. Her worries forgotten, if only for a brief moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They  flitted inside the small room and Mike called proverbial shotgun by planting his butt in the only seat. The gleaming beacon of technology before them seemed otherworldly. Alien!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Heathkit HAM shack!” Mr.Clarke whistled between his teeth and propped his hands on his hips. “Ain’t she a beaut?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida touched her finger to the smooth matte finish and checked out the back wiring. So polished and clean she could see her reflection in the rivets.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dustin and Lucas turned the tuning knobs while Mike slipped the plush headphones over his ears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I bet you could talk to New York on this thing.” Mike said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mr.Clarke chuckled. “Think bigger.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“California?” Lucas asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Canada?” Frida piqued, ogling orange backlight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bigger!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Australia!” Mike guessed, almost popping at the seams when Mr.Clarke nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When Will sees this, he is totally going to blow his shit!” Lucas exclaimed, biting his tongue a second too late.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lucas!” Mr.Clarke chastised. Frida could tell he wasn’t mad, though. Didn’t need to peek in his brain to know that. That’s what she liked so much about him, he was a nice guy through and through. Easy to read with nothing to hide.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“S-Sorry.” Lucas grinned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike leaned towards the mic and put on a horrid Australian accent. “‘Ello, this is Mike Wheeler! President of Hawkins Middle AV Club!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dustin took the headset and put it on, a mischievous smirk on his face. “‘Ello, and this is Dustin! The secretary and treasurer of Hawkins Middle AV Club! Do you eat kangaroos for breakfast?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dustin!” Frida snickered, taking her turn and leaning towards the microphone. “Hello, hello! Anyone out there listening?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Static rustled in her ears, but something else could be heard dimly in the background. It sounded like a voice. She listened intently and pressed the cups flush against her head. “Hello? Is someone there? Is everything upside down in Australia?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucas laughed and took the headset before she could hear a response. He snickered, laughing too hard to even get his joke out. That’s when Frida knew it was a real banger. The gang leaned closer to hear but everything came to an awkward pause when a knock sounded against the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the doorway stood the Principal of Hawkins Middle and Sheriff Deputy Hopper was close behind with another officer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida felt a knot tighten in her abdomen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry to interrupt boys and girls. But, uh, may I borrow Michael, Frida, Lucas, and Dustin?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is this about?” Frida said without thought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a private matter, I just need to see all of you in my office. I’m sure we can answer all your questions after you answer some of Deputy Hopper’s here.” The Principal relayed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The gang exchanged nervous glances and Frida had to fight with everything in her the urge to take a peek at their hurried thoughts. She could barely handle hers. This had to be about Will, she just knew it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida could sense something gloomy emanating from Hopper, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. She had looked into the mind of Hopper only once. Never again would she make that mistake. So much yawning, empty sadness that the negative feelings had threatened to overtake you. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dread seeped into her pores. This wasn’t good. This want normal. How could no one else sense that something wasn’t right? She didn’t know how to explain it. Like a frantic drumbeat that only she could hear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida’s breathing hitched. No. No. No. Will couldn’t be missing. It wasn’t like him to wander off and to make his family and friends worry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The walk to the Principal’s office had never felt so long before. The heavy oak door swished open and they were all led inside the humble room. They had to squeeze together to fit on the couch and Frida could tell Dustin had hotdogs for lunch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Officer Hopper gruffly began as he kiltered back in his chair. “Why don’t you give me a rundown of what happened last night. Anything you remember about your friend Will.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The name drop. There it was. Frida’s fists clenched in her lap. The room seemed askew, like she was viewing the events of her life through a silly straw. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boys were practically shouting over one another to recall last night’s events. Nothing unusual. Just a game of DnD before Will biked home with the others. After a few minutes of chaotic chatter, Hopper held up his hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay, okay! One at a time, all right? You.” He pointed towards Frida. “Your friend say anything strange last night? Nothing that would make you think he’s planning on running away?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida shook her head. “Not at all! And I think we’d all know if something was bothering Will enough to make him want to run away.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dustin concurred, “He definitely would have told us about that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hopper leaned forward and pointed towards Mike next. “Allright, and you said he takes what road home?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mirkwood!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Allright, Mirkwood?” He looked to his partner jotting down notes. “Have you ever heard of Mirkwood?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pursed his lips and shook his head before looking up from his notepad. “I have not. That sounds made up to me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not. It’s from Lord of the Rings.” Lucas explained.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, the Hobbit.” Dustin corrected.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucas rolled his eyes with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>what gives</span>
  </em>
  <span> gesture. “It doesn’t matter.” The two of them instantly set in to bickering.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida and Mike both tried to shut them up, but the argument was dropped when Hopper cut in. “Hey, hey, hey! What’d I just say? One. At. A damn. Time.” He nodded back towards Mike for him to continue. “You.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mirkwood, it’s a real road. It’s just the name that’s made up. It’s where Cornwallis and Kerley meet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hopper inclined his head in agreement. “Yeah, alright, I think I know that—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We can show you! If you want.” Mike suggested.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida wanted to go regardless. She doubted Hopper’s answer would affect that outcome, for the gang as well. They were going to Mirkwood to look for Will.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I said that I know it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but we can help look.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hopper shook his head dismissively, saying to each and every rebuttal, “No. No, no. After school, you are all to go home. Immediately. That means no biking around looking for your friend, no investigating, no nonsense. This isn’t some Lord of the Rings book.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Hobbit.” Dustin interjected, instantly regretting it when Frida socked him in the shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will you shut up?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida shirked away to dodge the iminent whaps between Dustin and Lucas as they bickered. Hopper stood to loom over them and speak softly, but firmly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do I make myself clear?” Hopper repeated it again after a heavy pause. “Do I make myself...clear?” His dark eyes riveted on them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone nodded tightly before uttering a mannerly, “Yes, Sir.” And shuffling out the door.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dinner that night was tense. Frida scooted her portions around, making a little dent in the steamed peas and carrots. The silence deafening save for the sound of jaws mashing and forks scraping.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike fidgeted before exhaling a pent up sigh and setting his fork on the plaid table mat. “We should be out there right now. We should be helping look for him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mom rolled her head on her shoulders, busy cutting Holly’s portions up into smaller bites. Without looking up she responded, “We’ve been over this, Mike. The chief says—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care what the chief said.” Mike shot back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida had tried to argue their point to their Mom, but knew there was no use. She hadn’t told Mike yet, because Mom was </span>
  <em>
    <span>expecting</span>
  </em>
  <span> them to want to look for Will. She’d tell him after dinner to grab his coat and a flashlight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mom turned to face him, her hairsprayed waves bouncing. “Michael. I won’t hear another word of it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But we have to do something! Will could be in danger.” He looked to Frida for back up, “Right, Frida? We need to get out there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s not wrong. I think something bad could have happened to him.” Frida relayed pensively, not wanting to entertain the thought longer than she had to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“More reason for you to stay put. And you must have bumped your head if you think I’m letting you take your sister out in the rain.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mom!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“End of discussion.” She snapped, glancing between the two of them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The table quietened for a brief moment. Dad sipped his tea while eyeing everyone over his glass. Nancy cleared her throat, staring at a forkful of potatoes before saying her first words of the night.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So...me and Barb are gonna study at her house tonight. That’s cool right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mom shook her head, “No, not cool.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? Why not?” Nancy blanched, not used to receiving a hard no.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why do you think? Am I speaking Chinese in this house? Until we know Will is okay, no one leaves.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, this is such bullshit.” Nancy whined.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dad gruffed, “Language.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So we’re under house arrest? Just because Frida and Mike’s friend got lost on the way home from— “</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, this is Will’s fault?” Mike squinted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, how about we leave Will out of this. It’s not his fault.” Frida slanted, raising a brow across the table at her older sister. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nancy, take that back.” Mom demanded, pointing at her with her fork.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nancy pouted her bottom lip out of habit, her cheeks pinkening. “No!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re just pissed off cause you wanna hang out with Steve.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nancy’s eyes went wide and she glared at Mike, a vein in her neck bulging.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Steve?” Dad said around a bite of pork steak.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Steve?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
  <span> Mom pressed, her tone rising.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida wanted to keep quiet on the matter, but Mike was geared up. “Steve is her new boyfriend.” He aired.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are such a douchebag, Mike!” Nancy scoffed, jumping up from her seat and excusing herself from the dinner table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Language!” Dad bleated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nancy, come back.” Mom called after her, once again, her voice echoing down the hall, “Come back!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Holly started to fuss and Mom spoon fed her another bite, cooing to her that everything was alright while Dad looked unconvinced. He sighed before turning to face them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You see, Michael? You see what happens kids?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What happens when </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?</span>
  </em>
  <span> It feels like I’m the only one acting normal here. Like Frida and I are the only ones who care about Will.” Mike was shouting now, his voice cracking, his leg joggling as he was prone to do in stressful situations he couldn’t run from.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That is really unfair, son.” Their Dad said blandly before he tossed a piece of fried okra into his mouth. “We do care.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike paused and got up without a word, Mom tried to call after him but Frida knew it was no use.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let him go.” Dad mumbled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida glanced up to see Mom leveling her gaze at him. His uncaring nature always had a way of winding her up. Frida had to admit, in the past few years, Dad seemed a bit critical of Mike. She knew it was because Mike was growing up and they spent more time with their friends than either of their parents. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As of late, Dad either fumbled or he didn’t get involved at all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I hope you’re enjoying your chicken, Ted.” With that, Mom rose up from the table as well, taking Holly with her into the living room, completely ignoring Dad as he asked for an explanation as to what he did wrong.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mom tapped the T.V. once and it blipped on, tuned in to the nightly news.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just Frida and her father remained at the table. He swallowed his bite dryly, following it with a drink of water before chuckling to himself humorlessly and letting his fork drop on the plate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, Dad.” Frida muttered, not entirely sure what she was apologizing for.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiled at her with a shrug. “You’re a good kid, Frida. Nothing to be sorry for.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Later on, down In the basement, Frida scanned over their campaign pieces and pondered where they’d left off. Will </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> rolled a seven. Or had it been a six? It didn’t matter, he could re-roll again when he got back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike blipped on the walkie talkie, holding it away from his ear for a second as it screeched with static. “Lucas, do you copy? It’s Mike. Hello? Lucas?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey! It’s Lucas, I’m here.” His voice rang from the other side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. We know it’s you. But you gotta say over when you’re done talking so I know when you’re done. Over.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But you didn’t say over the first time.” Frida whispered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Frida! Er— over!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi Lucas! Over.” She chimed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m worried about Will. Over.” Mike said for the dozenth time tonight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. This is...crazy. I can’t stop thinking about him out there. Over”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure he’s somewhere safe.” Frida assured. “He knows how to take care of himself. Find shelter and start a fire. He’s capable, guys. More than we give him credit for sometimes. Oh, over.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So I was thinking…” Mike rapped his fingertips against the table. “Will could’ve cast Protection last night, but he didn’t. He cast fireball. Over.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida perked up. Where was he going with this. Lucas asked for her with, “What’s your point? Over.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My point is...he could’ve played it safe, but he didn’t. He put himself in danger to help the party. Over.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida squinted, absently toying with the demogorgon casting. The airwaves were quiet for a long moment and amidst the crackling static it sounded like there was an interfering frequency. Lucas cut back in before she could hear anything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Meet me in ten. Over and out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Meet him where?” Mike asked, setting the walkie talkie down and propping his chin in his hands, still thinking about Will.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mirkwood, for sure.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike snapped his fingers, hopping up and snatching the radio. “We have to act casual. Mom and Dad are already asleep, but we can’t take any chances.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Duh.” They tiptoed up the stairs and readied a backpack. Flashlight, candy, and a change of socks. She slipped on her jacket and pulled up the hood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike opened the window before sliding out on his stomach and jogging across the grass to his bike. He waited patiently for her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida’s palms were damp, her pulse quick when she gripped the handlebars of her bicycle. She peeked back over her shoulder as they zipped down the road away from home, but they both bit the breaks when they caught someone climbing into Nancy’s window.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shit. It’s Steve.” Frida wheezed as they made awkward eye contact. The junior year shrugged silently in comradery perhaps and let them pedal off without a word.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It was absolutely pouring by time they neared Mirkwood. Dustin and Lucas were perched at the edge of the woods in waiting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thunder drummed overhead. The rain was in full torrent now as the gang jaunted through the woods.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida’s heart had yet to stop racing. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Will!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> She called out in unison with the others. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Will! Where are you?!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucas cupped his hands over his mouth to shout, “Byers!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got your X-Men 134!” Dustin tantalized to no avail.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida smacked her flashlight as it began to flicker and lost her footing in the mud. She slid a ways down before Mike snagged her arm and hauled her back to her feet. Lightning forked the sky and Dustin fidgeted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Guys, I really think we should turn back.” Dustin suggested.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seriously?” Lucas slanted. “If you really wanna be a baby, then go home already.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dustin threw his hands up.” I’m just being realistic, Lucas!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No! You’re just being a big sissy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida winced as mud stung her busted knees.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay! It’s going to be alright. We might have lost sight of him, but we haven’t lost </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Mike assured everyone, fixing Frida’s raincoat. “Don’t worry. He’s probably waiting for us to find him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know. You’re right.” Frida nodded, forcing a smile. He wouldn’t let her be otherwise. They continued on in the dark woods, the entirety of the haunting moon raking trees lit up with infrequent flashes of lightning. Something was there, just ahead in the dark. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dustin began again, “You think Will went missing cause he ran into something bad? And we’re going to the exact same spot he was last seen? A-And we have no weapons or anything?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dustin, shut up.” Mike shushed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m just saying does that seem smart to you guys?” Dustin retorted, flinching from a rustle in the brush. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike stilled them with his arm. “Shut up- Shut up.” He tilted his head towards the sound. “Did you guys hear that?” A far off scream accompanied his question and they all nearly leapt out of their skin when a figure darted behind them</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will!” Frida exclaimed, fanning her light against the unknown silhouette. No. Not Will. “Who are…?” She trailed, taking in the peculiar young girl before her. The group skidded to a stop, no one saying a word. Like they might scare her off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Guttural shouting in the distance snapped them all to attention. The girl trembled, peering at Frida with wide, fearful eyes. Her lips trembled. Her tiny frame soaked to the bone. Not a hair past fingertip length on her head. The shirt she wore billowed in the cold wind. She said not a word, but Frida felt it. The pain. The loneliness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida ushered her closer and took off her jacket without thought to cover her with.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Frida, wait— “</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s freezing.” Frida bundled her up and snapped the ties tightly, drawing the string so it cinched around her wiry body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida was abound with questions, but it would all have to wait as whomever chased this strange girl was nearing them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Guys. Go. Now.” Mike bit out before shutting his flashlight off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida went to run, but saw the girl wasn’t moving. She was too scared to budge until Frida threaded their fingers together. She held her hand close and gave her a coaxing tug before running with her through the pitch black woods.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>(This chapter is credited to Commander_Shepard).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Frida didn’t know how she knew— she just knew. Keep running. Keep pedaling. Don’t look back, don't look back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rain was coming down in a torrent now and Frida could barely see her hand in front of her face. Frida had to keep focusing. She couldn’t hear it, but she could </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> something. Someone’s hurried thoughts screaming out into the night. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Get her.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida wouldn’t let that happen. She pumped her legs so hard for speed she lost track of the boys and followed a different path there. She cut across a yard or two to save more time and stopped so hard at her address that the back wheel came clear off the ground.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“S-Sorry,” she murmured. “You okay? Here, let’s get you inside before you get pneumonia.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh geez, I sound just like mom.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The strange girl hadn’t said a word and it didn’t look like she had any plans to start saying anything now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida tiptoed across the lawn, sticking close to the house to keep the motion sensor from going off and flooding the yard with light. She wedged her fingers in the crack of her windowsill and lifted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come here, I’ll help you up.” Frida stooped in the mud and offered her hands out for the girl to step on. “Go on, it’s fine. You’re light as a feather.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girl’s lips parted as if she wanted to speak, but at length she remained silent. She hesitantly stepped up into Frida’s palm and gripped the window’s ledge as she was slowly hoisted inside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest of the gang peeled in, hot on their trail.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida helped everyone else in, deciding to worry about the mud they were tracking in later.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girl looked around their room inquisitively, as if she’d never seen a solar system diorama or a lava lamp at rest. She shivered, even with Frida’s coat the cold was seeping in. They couldn’t stay here, had to get to the basement. Mom was a light sleeper and these walls were too thin to contain all the questions Frida had.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida cracked the bedroom door open and motioned for the others to follow. They hurried down the quiet hall and into the basement where they dusted off the couch for the girl to sit. She stared up at them all wide eyed. Speechless.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is there a number we call for your parents?” Mike asked, rain water dripping from his bangs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where’s your hair? Do you have cancer?” Dustin blurted without thinking twice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dustin! Really?” Frida slapped his arm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you run away?” Lucas whispered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, are you in some kind of trouble?” Mike inched closer to her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucas pointed to a red stain on the collar of her shirt. “Is that blood?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop it! You’re all freaking her out!” The boys were hovering all about her and Frida had to gently shoo them away. “Space, boys, let's give the girl a lil space.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s freaking me out!” Lucas retorted, gesturing wildly to her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I bet she’s deaf.” Dustin suggested before lurching at the poor girl and clapping his hands together. She flinched and Dustin shrugged before looking to the rest of them, “Not deaf.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida rolled her eyes so hard they almost fell onto the back of her head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All right, that’s enough. She’s just scared and cold,” Mike said, before getting struck with an idea and darting to the basket of clean laundry sitting on the washing machine. He rifled through before pulling out some of Frida’s clothes and returned to hand them to the strange girl.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here, these should fit you. They’re clean, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girl hesitated, but took the clothes. She brought them to her face to scent and dab away the rain. She began shucking Frida’s coat off without pause and stood to grab the hem of her shirt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whoa— no! No, no!” Frida exclaimed, gently moving her hands away while the rest of the gang stammered and stumbled away. Eyes closed and faces turned away so there would not be accidental peeking. “There’s a bathroom right over there. See? P-Privacy. Get it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida pointed to the little door and though the girl’s brows were knitted in confusion, she nodded. She gathered up her change of clothes and shuffled over to inspect the compact room. Frida tried to shut the door, but the girl grabbed it, stopping her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“D… do you not want it closed?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girl studied Frida’s face. Her dark, haunted eyes gave Frida a glimpse, communicating clearly, almost as is Frida were reading her thoughts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.” The girl murmured. Her voice hoarse with misuse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh! So you can speak. Okay, well... Um, how about we just keep the door just like this? Is that better?” Frida left it slightly ajar. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Perfect. I’ll be right here with my back to the door.” Frida turned away politely to keep her blocked from the gang’s view,though the boys seemed to be intentionally looking everywhere but.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So she speaks? This is mental,” Dustin shook his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“At least she can talk!” Mike tried to make sense of the situation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She said ‘'no’ and ‘'yes.’ Your three-year-old sister says more.” Lucas said, and he wasn’t wrong about that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And she tried to get naked,” Dustin added.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucas and he were clearly in agreement. “Something is seriously wrong with her. Like, wrong in the head.” Lucas snapped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She just went like…” Dustin imitated how she went to lift her shirt and knocked his hat off in the process.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucas leaned forward to whisper for only Mike’s ears, but he’s a shitty, shrill whisperer and Frida heard it anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I bet she escaped from Pennhurst.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“From where?” Mike squinted, not bothering to whisper.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know. The nuthouse in Kerley County.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You got a lot of family there?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bite me, Dustin,” Lucas snapped. “But seriously though, </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> about it. That would explain her shaved hair and why she’s so crazy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why she went like…” Another crude imitation of the girl disrobing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Point is, she’s an escapee. She’s probably a psycho.” Lucas asserted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like Michael Myers,” Dustin gasped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Exactly! We should have never brought her here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The only loonies here are you two,” Frida snickered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. So you just wanted to leave her out there in that storm?” Will slanted his head, a little fleck of irritation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without pause, Lucas told him, “Yes! We went out to find Will, not another problem.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think we should tell your mom,” Dustin said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I second that,” Lucas chimed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida felt a flare of anxiety at the idea of this girl back outside. Storm or shine, she didn’t need to be in the woods. She needed to be in a warm home at the very least.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who’s crazy now?” Mike jabbed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How is that crazy, Mike?” Lucas jabbed right back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘Cause, we weren’t supposed to be out tonight, remember?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So?” Lucas shrugged.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So? If you tell our mom, she’s gonna go right to your mom, too. Duh.” Frida couldn’t believe she was having to explain this to these knuckleheads.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And your mom, too, Dustin,” Mike tacked on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucas sighed, “Our houses will become Alcatraz.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Exactly. And then we’ll never find Will. So here’s the plan. She sleeps here tonight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re letting a girl who’s not Frida— “</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shush! Keep your voices down,” Frida warned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just listen. In the morning, she sneaks around the house and goes to the front door to ring the doorbell. Mom will answer and know exactly what to do. She’ll send her back to Pennhurst or wherever she comes from. We’ll be totally in the clear! And tomorrow night, we go back out. And this time, we find Will.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida glowered. Nice plan, except the whole ditching this poor girl on the doorstep part. The back of her neck warmed considerably, the itch to peek washing over her. She denied the urge though, knowing that arguing about this wasn’t any use. She’d be two...no, two-and-a-half against one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like it’s the only choice we got,” Dustin shrugged, slapping his hands against his cargo shorts and looking longingly up the ladder. “I have no idea what time it is and probably don’t want to know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucas gave Mike a pat on the shoulder. “Good luck.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You still think she’s psycho?” Dustin asked Lucas.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shook his head. “Wouldn’t want her in my house.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike shuffled in the linen closet for a clean set of sheets while the rest of the gang slipped up the stairs and out the house through their bedroom window. She peeked out the cellar window to see their silhouettes disappear down the road on the bikes. The rain still coming down in buckets.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida felt the girl needed something cozy and built her a blanket fort out of chairs and moth eaten sheets Mom didn’t want to get rid of. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You think this will work?” Mike asked, tugging out Frida’s old sleeping bag.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh! That’s perfect, Mike.” Frida turned to smile at the girl hiding in the shadow of the fort. She looked tiny, even in Frida’s clothes. The sweatpants and matching shirt swallowed her up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike brought the sleeping bag over after giving it a good shake. “Hey, come to think of it, we never got you name.” He directed to the girl.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She fixed her nest and tucked Frida’s sleeping bag tightly beneath her. She stared up at the two of them for a long moment. Just the sound of rain and thunder rolling in ambiance. She curled her fingers under her sleeve and tugged it up the length of her slender forearm, revealing three numbers stamped in garish black ink.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>011</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida’s heart seized. “Is that… real?” She reached to touch her but the girl curled away defensively.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike oogled. “Sorry. We’ve just never seen a kid with a tattoo before.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s it mean?” Frida asked gently. “Eleven?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girl pointed to herself once. Twice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s your name?” Mike asked over Frida’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eleven! Well… we call Michael “Mike” for short. How about we just call you “El”? Short for Eleven.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven’s eyes softened and she nodded eagerly. She clearly liked that. Her reaction warmed Frida’s heart. Her expression was the closest thing to a smile she’d seen all night.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike shuffled behind them. “Well, goodnight, El. Frida, you coming?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida stayed crouched for a second longer. They’d have to put their plan to test tomorrow. This might be one of the last moments they get to spend together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Night, El.” Frida murmured, rising to roll the front blanket of the fort down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven’s voice spoke gently before the curtain fell, “Night Frida.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike took a quick jaunt up the steps but Frida remained. She looked to the nest of blankets once more before cutting the light off and following her brother, all the while feeling as if she’d left a piece of herself behind in the basement.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Frida jumped when the toaster spit of three steaming waffles. She checked to make sure Mom wasn’t looking and tucked a few in her pocket. She and Mike practically inhaled their breakfast while Nancy squinted at them both.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Slow down! That’s disgusting!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike swallowed a syrupless bite and turned his head to her. Around a mouthful he asked, “Get a lot of studying done last night?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without skipping a beat Nancy said, “Yeah. Yeah, actually, I did.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What was your test on again? Human anatomy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida and Nancy both kicked Mike under the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on?” Mom piqued, glancing between the three of them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike and Nancy bleated at the same time before digging back into their plates, “Nothing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida finished first and daubed a napkin to her mouth. She thanked their Mom for breakfast and gave her forehead a smooch before stealing away downstairs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The basement was a few degrees cooler and her breath hung in the air down here. Frida heard the sound of static and sheets rustling from the blanket fort.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Morning, El.” Frida greeted her, rolling the blanket back. “Sleep well? Oh! You found Mike’s supercomm. It’s kinda cool, huh? We can talk to our friends with it. Lucas is the only one close enough for it to work, though. Signal is pretty weak.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Here, got you some breakfast.” Frida pulled out the still warm Eggos and dusted them off. El’s fingers brushed against Frida’s and she accepted gratefully before taking a bite.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike came sprinting down the steps. “Mornin’ El! Oh, yeah, this is gonna sound weird but uh...I need you to go out there.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pointed to the basement window and Frida’s heart skipped. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then, go to the front door and ring the doorbell. Our Mom will answer and you’ll tell her that you’re lost and that you need help— but whatever you do, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> tell her about last night. Or that you know us. Understand?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven stared, chewing her waffle in silence. Choosing not to respond, and Frida didn’t blame her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mike, I don’t really think that’s going to work,” Frida finally voiced her concerns about this plan. Mom was going to know who to call all right. The cops. Then they’d come and yank El out of here and they’d never get to see each other again. Frida just knew it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, really. It’s no big deal. We’ll just pretend to meet each other again! Our Mom will know who to call.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“N… No?” Mike repeated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El shook her head, looking straight at him. “No.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No… you don’t want Mom to get you help?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shook her head again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I tried to tell you, Mike. This isn’t really your best plan. I think… I think El is in trouble.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that true? Are you in danger?” Mike asked. “Who are you in trouble with?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight. The usual burn that followed wasn’t there. Instead, it was a warm, almost numb sensation. As if someone held her close and murmured secrets against her neck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven fiddled with her half eaten waffle, her mouth opened and closed, and at length she finally said, “Bad.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bad?” Frida asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bad people?” Mike chimed in, glancing to his sister concernedly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven met their looks of worry with one of her own. A solemn understanding as she simply nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do these bad people want to hurt you? Were those the people chasing you in the woods last night?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven poised her pointer and index finger in a grisly gesture to her temple. She then motioned the same towards the both of them. She leaned forward and whispered, “Understand?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their Mom’s voice called out from the kitchen. “Michael! Frida! Where are you two, we’re going to be late. Let’s go!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All right, I’ll— we’ll be right back. Okay? Just stay here.” Frida dropped the blankets back over El’s fort, catching one last glimpse of her haunted face before she and Mike hurried up the stairs with a different plan in mind— the same one on Mike’s.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She and Mike mounted up on their bikes like normal and headed to school. Their Mom close behind them but only until the end of the block, where she’d veer off to do her usual grocery run before heading back home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida’s knuckles were stark white on her handlebars when Mom’s station wagon turned left and she waved them goodbye. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thinking what I’m thinking?” Mike cheesed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know it.” Frida turned on a dime, whipping her bike back towards home with Mike right by her side. Not a single late day or absence on her or her brother’s attendance record, so they school would definitely be calling later. She’d have to answer it or somehow convince Nancy to do it. A problem for later, she supposed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida’s heart was pounding by the time they pulled back in the driveway. She hadn’t been away but ten minutes and already she felt compelled to see El again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pair hurried down the steps to meet a surprised El.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She toyed with the radio more after having finished her waffles. She didn’t exactly smile, but Frida could tell she was relieved not to be alone anymore. She motioned for El to follow her upstairs, to which she hesitated but eventually did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Want something to drink? We got OJ, Skim milk, soda pop… What else?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven wandered behind them, her eyes affixed on her surroundings. She peered into the blank screen of the television and plucked the rabbit ears curiously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s the living room!” Mike rapped his knuckles against the TV. “It’s mostly just for watching television. It’s nice, right? A 22 inch! That’s like ten times bigger than Dustin’s!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven looked to the mantle above the fireplace, to the dozens of frame pictures sitting on top. She touched a portrait of Nancy and one of Frida before picking it up. She traced her fingers along the braids Frida once had, before she’d had it cut short because of the bubblegum ‘accident’.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El smiled, showing Frida the picture.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pretty.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I guess.” Frida shrugged, taking the photo and setting it back on the mantle. She pointed to the rest, naming the members of their family. “That’s Nancy. That little one is Holly. And that’s our parents!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are your parents like?” Frida asked. “Do they live close?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven avoided the question entirely and flitted to the living room furniture. She squeezed the plush headrest of the armchair and rocked it back and forth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s our Lazy Boy. It’s where Dad sleeps. Here! Try it out.” Frida motioned for El to take a seat. She paced for a moment, keeping her eyes on Frida before nodding and sitting down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’ll be fun, I promise. Just trust me and relax, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven settled in and shut her eyes. Frida reached for the footrest level and gave it a tug. The springs croaked and the chair kiltered backwards. El was stiff but did utter a nervous little laugh. The first Frida had heard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“See! Fun, right?” Mike asked from the kitchen as he poured them all a glass of milk before spooning in Nesquik.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Now you try!” Frida reset the chair and took El by the hand to set her palm on the wooden handle. She gave it a yank and flew back with another laugh, more boisterous this time. The smile actually reaching her dark eyes as they connected with Frida’s. For a moment, she looked whole. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>In their shared room, Mike showed his collection of toys to Eleven. She seemed disinterested in them until he mentioned Yoda.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s Yoda. Master Jedi. He can use the Force to move things with his mind, like this!” Mike swept the table and sent a plastic dinosaur flying. He picked him up and pressed a button on its chest, activating a scratchy speaker that belted out a dry rasp. “His name’s Rory, he’s got a little speaker in his mouth so he can roar!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven nodded in understanding before something else caught her eye. She walked over to the array of trophies set upon their dresser. She peered at the engraved plates and her reflection in the bronze coating.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Those are our science fair trophies! We place first every year!” Frida proudly explained, pointing to a framed picture of her and the boys grinning ear to ear. “Well, we did get third last year. Mr.Clarke said it was totally political.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven squinted, dipping her head in for a closer look. Upon her inspection, her face fell. Her mouth parted and she simply stared at the photo of them. With one trembling finger, she pointed to Will and Frida felt her stomach knot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you… know who that is?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How could she possibly know Will?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you see Will out there last night? On the road or maybe in the woods?” Mike asked, the answer put on hold as the sound of tires pulled into the driveway. He darted to the window and cursed before turning back. “We gotta go, now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mom’s back already?” Frida looped her hand around El’s wrist and led them into the hall, they skipped down the steps just as Mom opened the door with Holly on her hip. The bustled back up the stairs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello? Ted? Is that you?” Their mother called.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike grimaced. “It’s just us!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Us? Mike, Frida? What are you two doing home?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“One second!” Frida exclaimed before heading back into their room and yanking open the closet door. She hated to do it, but she couldn’t risk El getting taken. “In here, just for a bit. I’ll be right back for you, I promise. Okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven took a step back, clearly uncomfortable with being closed off in such a small space.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have to, El! Our mom will find you.” Mike persuaded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida placed her hands on Eleven’s shoulders. “You understand, don’t you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We won’t tell her about you! Promise!” Mike slid a rack of sweaters to the side to make room for her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven’s gaze flickered between them. “Promise?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s an oath. Something you can’t break.” Frida explained before threading her pinkie finger through El’s. “Ever.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Michael! Frida!” Their mother called to them again, sounding less patient than before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven took a deep breath but did as they asked. She shouldered inside the narrow space, trembling all the while and it broke Frida’s heart to shut the door in her terrified face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now to deal with Mom. Frida took the lead and they both slinked down stairs to see her tapping her foot impatiently, arms crossed, ready to receive their explanation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So what are you two doing skipping school?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think we might be sick. I woke up with a terrible headache. I thought breakfast would help but I got sick on the way there and— “</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike made a gagging sound and covered his mouth. “Stop— stop. You’re gonna make me puke again if you bring it up We didn’t want to tell you ‘cause last time we were sick you made us go to school anyways..,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their mother sighed. “Kids. I’m not mad.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No?” Mike asked incredulously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. I’m not. Look, All this that’s been going on with Will, I can’t imagine what it’s been like for you two. I just… I want you both to feel like you can talk to me. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> want you to feel like you have to hide anything from me. I’m always here for you. Okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Every second away from Eleven made Frida grow more anxious. At that thought, a dull thud sounded from upstairs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is there someone else here?” Mom asked, peering at the stairs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike shrugged. “No.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to go lay down, my head is killing me.” Frida excused herself with only a half lie. She rubbed the back of her neck as it began to pinprick with warmth. Strange. She hadn’t tried peering into anyone’s thoughts and yet she could hear a voice not her own. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Back in her room she hurried to the closet door. “Eleven? Is everything okay?” She didn’t hear anything now, only ringing silence. “El?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida turned the knob and opened the closet door to see Eleven sitting on the floor, her knees to her chest and her arms hugging herself tightly. Her face wet with tears shined with the light of relief as she saw Frida.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Frida,” she breathed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is everything okay?” Frida murmured, thumbing away her tears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven leaned into that touch and nodded with a wry smile. “Yeah. Promise.”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The day commenced almost like usual, only with more paranoia. Frida couldn’t help but listen out for their mother every few minutes. She wasn’t one to hover and rarely came knocking on their door anyhow, but she couldn’t shake the fear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before she knew it, Dustin and Lucas came tromping up the stairs. She could hear them whispering between each other but couldn’t make out what they were saying. They entered the room and both looked dead ahead to see Eleven sitting cross legged with a knit blanket across her knees.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucas whipped his head from Mike to Frida. “Are you two out of your minds?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just listen— “</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You two are crazy!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She knows about Will.” Frida asserted, putting herself between El and the boys.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean she knows about Will?” Dustin stammered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida grabbed their Science Fair snapshot. “She </span>
  <em>
    <span>pointed</span>
  </em>
  <span> at him, at his picture. She knew he was missing. I could tell.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could tell?” Lucas repeated, raising a brow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just think about it. Do you guys really think it’s a coincidence we found her on Mirkwood, the same place Will disappeared.” Mike reasoned, coming to his sister’s side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dustin shrugged, glancing to Lucas to gauge his reaction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> weird.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She also said bad people were after her.” Frida began, “I think maybe these bad people are the same ones that took Will.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike nodded, “We think she knows what happened to him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then why doesn’t she tell us?” Lucas tilted his head, glowering at El over Frida’s shoulder. He tsked before moving Frida aside and striding up to El. “Do you know where he is?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El cast a worried look to Frida. Alarm bells ringing. The hairs on her nape stinging. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucas grabbed Eleven by the shoulders and shouted, “Do you know where Will is?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop it you’re scaring her!” Frida snagged the back of his coat and yanked him away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She should be scared!” Lucas elbowed Frida away before stabbing his index in El’s direction. “If you know where he is, tell us!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Eleven didn’t know how to respond, Lucas threw his hands in frustration and faced Mike. “This is nuts. We have to take her to your mom.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her brother refused. “No. Eleven said telling any adult would put us in danger.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What kind of danger?” Dustin asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Her name is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Eleven?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Lucas squinted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“El for short.” Frida chimed, turning to wink at her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mike! What kind of danger?” Dustin reiterated, his voice rising with fear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Danger</span>
  </em>
  <span> danger.” Mike laid bare before jabbing two fingers to Dustin’s forehead, just as Eleven had demonstrated last night. He pulled the metaphorical trigger and Dustin gasped. He brought the smoking gun to Lucas next who slapped his hand away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no, no! We’re going back to Plan A. We’re telling your mom.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, we’re not.” Frida argued, racing Lucas to the door. He made it there first and opened it about a foot before it slammed shut in his face. The trophies on the dresser rattled and  her tried it again with the same violent result. No one said a word as the sound of a lock latching echoed in the silence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida whirled to see Eleven’s face wrought with stress and one shaken arm extended. A thick line of blood seeped from his nose and Frida recognized something in her she’d never sensed in another person.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Eleven said cooly.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Dinner that night was uncharacteristically silent and Mom noticed. Frida and the rest had barely touched their plates, just shuffled around the portions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Something wrong with the meatloaf?” Mom asked across the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida shook her head, before taking a bite. “My stomach is still on the fritz from this morning.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah— and I had two bologna sandwiches for lunch.” Dustin trailed, “I don’t know why.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A fake smile spread on Lucas’s face as he tapped his fingers with a nervous chuckle. “Me, too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nancy tilted her head towards their mother. “It’s delicious, Mommy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, sweetie.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nancy took that as an in and started worming her way into a lie by omission. The tell of her fibs always arising in an artificial sweetness. “So, there’s this special assembly thing tonight… for Will at the school field. Barb’s driving.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And why am I just now hearing about this?” Their mother asked pensively.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought you knew.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I told you, I don’t want you out after dark until Will is found.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know, I know, but it’d be super weird if I’m not there.” Nancy suggested. “I mean, </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> going.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their mother sighed before finally relenting, “Just… be back by 10:00. Why don’t you take the boys and Frida, too?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida and the others clammored with a collective, “No.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mom squinted, “Don’t you think you should be there? For Will?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At that very moment, Frida’s heart fell into the pit of her oily stomach as Eleven came tiptoeing down the stairs. Dustin slammed his hands on the table to catch Mom’s attention as they boys gawked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry. Spasm.” He shrugged as El disappeared down the hallway to the basement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Holly sunk lower in her highchair, her cheeks reddening as she grew upset.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sweetie it’s okay. Just a loud noise.” Mom cooed to her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida excused herself from the table with a hand placed over her belly. “Dinner was great, Mom. Sorry I couldn’t eat more.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t apologize. You go ahead and take a bath if you aren’t going out tonight.” Mom looped an arm around Frida’s waist and hugged her tightly for a moment. Frida didn’t need to peek to know she was thinking about Will’s Mom. How Joyce must be feeling right now, unable to hold or comfort her own child.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She cast a worried glance down the dark hall to the basement door. Eleven had to be hungry, and the smell of supper cooking probably didn’t help. She’d fix her a plate once the dining room cleared. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shampoo stung Frida’s eyes as she moved quickly to shower off. She barely toweled dry and her clothes stuck to her damp skin. She slipped into the kitchen to see that dinner was finished and Dad was cemented in his chair watching television. Holly bounced happily on Mom’s knee as the next contestant spun the wheel of fortune.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida snuck around to ready a plate but found the boys had beaten her to it and cleared the leftovers. She hurried down the hall and into the basement, met by three worried faces that relaxed upon seeing her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No adults.” Mike told Eleven while handing her a dinner tray. “Just us and some meatloaf.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven accepted but kept Dustin and Lucas warily in check.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry,” Mike assured. “They won’t tell anyone about you. They promise. Right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dustin nodded, “We never would have upset you if we knew you had superpowers.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To which Frida snickered and Mike whapped his shin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What Dustin is trying to say is that they were just scared earlier. That’s all.” Mike reasoned. Even if Frida was still pissed with Lucas and Dustin’s outburst… she understood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We just want to find our friend.” Lucas relayed, rubbing his hands nervously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven peeked past her fort of blankets. “Friend?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, friend. Will?” Lucas inclined.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dustin and Lucas both shared a shocked look as Eleven asked again, “What is friend?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is she serious? Um… a friend is like… it’s… uh…” Lucas trailed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida crouched to Eleven’s level. “A friend is someone that you’d do anything for. You take care of each other.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you lend them your cool stuff, like comic books and trading cards.” Dustin added.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And they never break a promise.” Mike asserted with a grin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Especially when there’s spit.” Lucas nodded to Dustin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El didn’t understand, “Spit?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A spit swear means…” Lucas spit in his hand and slapped his palm against Dustin’s. “You never break your word. It’s a bond.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s super important, because friends… they tell each other things. Things that parents don’t know.” Frida leaned closer. “Even scary or bad things. Friends share that, too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven spooned a lukewarm bite of meatloaf into her mouth, seeming to get the idea. She smiled at Frida and swallowed. She set aside her meal with a sigh and made her way over to their DnD diorama still in play.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven sat at the table and closed her eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s the weirdo doing?” Lucas asked, receiving an elbow in his ribs from Frida.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When El opened her eyes again, she plucked Will’s piece from the board and twirled the little pewter mage in her hand. “Will.” She stated simply.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dustin gasped, “Superpowers.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida sat by her side. “Did you see Will last night? On Mirkwood?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you know where he is?” Mike asked, to which she stared coldly before sweeping the rest of their pieces onto the floor and clearing the board. She then flipped it over, showing blank other side. She took Will’s mage and sat him right in the middle of featureless black.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I...don’t understand.” Mike admitted with a shrug.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida didn’t either, but the display alone was unsettling enough. “You’re not saying he’s…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hiding.” El said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will is hiding?” Mike leaned forward.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven didn’t look up from the board as she nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“From the bad men who’re chasing you?” Frida suggested, a ray of relief struggling in through the darkness, stamped out quickly when Eleven shook her head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then from who?” Mike wondered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El reached to grab a piece on the floor and sat the Demogorgon in front of Will’s mage.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida felt her blood run cold as the gang exchanged worried glances. Eleven stared right at her with an unreadable expression and somehow she knew.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We’re the same.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you're enjoying reading this as well, I know i enjoyed it :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>(This Chapter is credited to Commander_Shepard).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Frida blinked her eyes open to unfamiliar surroundings. She gasped for breath but found each ragged inhale harder than the next. The mote filled air made her feel heavy. She knew she was dreaming, and yet, she couldn’t seem to will herself to wake up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was at someone’s home. A brick townhouse she’d never seen before. She felt compelled to peek into the backyard even as dread filled the pit of her stomach.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Nancy?!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida froze. Nancy? Her sister?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Nancy! Help me!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> The disembodied voice screamed once again, more desperate. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Nancy!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida ran headlong towards the backyard and stopped at the source of the noise. An empty pool wrought with vines— in the midst was a girl. A girl Frida recognized!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“B-Bard?” Frida muttered, edging closer to the pool’s ladder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The older girl faced her with a horrified expression, unnerving Frida to the core. She lurched for the pool’s ladder and scrambled up the steps, almost reaching the top before something stopped her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Barb screamed, the sound cutting straight through Frida. She extended a hand towards Barb, even as she trembled in fear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A squelching sound so guttural emanated from the pool that Frida felt herself recoiling. She willed herself to stay when Bard’s grip on the ladder began slipping. Whatever force drew her in wasn’t letting up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Grab my hand!” Frida cried as the tips of her fingers glanced across Barb’s knuckles. The brief contact was severed in an instant as Barb was yanked into the pool, screeching profusely until the sound came to a gurgling halt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida felt cemented in place, unable to move as the back of her neck burned. She peered over the edge to find Barb standing still, swaying on her feet as she stood across from another figure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The figure slowly turned its featureless face towards her. Though she couldn’t see an expression, the energy from this being was easy to read as it radiated in heady waves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Malice. Hatred. Evil.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s odd face shuddered and it was then Frida noticed hairline fractures splitting it from the center. It bloomed, revealing fleshy petals lined with jagged teeth, a black maw yawning open in the middle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out. She felt another presence here with her and looked across the way to see someone lingering in the woods nearby. Watching. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reality came crashing and Frida woke in a rush, gasping for breath. Her sweat-slicked shirt was heavy on her torso, drying cold. She slipped from her bed, careful not to wake Mike in his bunk below.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She changed into a fresh shirt and paused at the sound of her Mother’s voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>We agreed on 10:00.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was scolding. Disappointed. Had to be Nancy Troubles. Her suspicions were confirmed when their shrill whispering reached Frida again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You can talk to me. Whatever happened.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Mom assured in her gentlest voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Nothing happened.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Nancy bit out before rushing up the stairs and down the hall, shutting her door softly behind her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida crawled back in bed, her body still thrumming with anxious excitement. She stared up at the popcorn ceiling and the glowing stars puttied above. She tried to get back to sleep but didn’t want to return to that awful dream. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shut her eyes and thought more about tomorrow and her resolve to tell everyone the truth. That she and El were not so different. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She could hear Lucas now, “So...you’re a weirdo, too. Huh? Couldn’t just stop at the liking girls thing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida groaned, burying her face in her pillow and waiting for the start of a new day.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll just tell our parents we have AV club after school. That’ll give us at least a few hours for Operation Mirkwood.” Mike suggested to the group of weary morning faces.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida blinked slowly, having barely slept a wink last night and fretted all morning. She couldn’t stomach even the scent of breakfast and had to steal herself away to the basement, comforted instantly the Eleven’s presence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You seriously think that weirdo know where Will is?” Lucas scoffed, still suspicious of her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just trust me on this, okay?” Mike glowered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And stop calling her a weirdo, weirdo.” Frida tacked on. Because if El was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>weirdo</span>
  </em>
  <span>, what did that make her? Frida’d decided it late last night. She was going to tell the others that she and El weren’t so different. Maybe even connected somehow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Lucas relented, eyeing Mike and Frida.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you get the supplies?” Mike changed the subject, gesturing to the extra bag Lucas sported.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Binoculars… from ‘Nam. Army knife… also from ‘Nam. Hammer, camouflage bandana… and the wrist rocket.” Lucas named off his items, pulling them one by one out of the bag.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re gonna take out the Demogorgon with a slingshot?” Dustin teased.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“First of all, it’s a wrist rocket, and second of all, the Demogorgon’s not real. It’s made up. But if there is something out there, I’m gonna shoot it in the eye.” Lucas pulled the yellow band tight and snapped it at them. “And blind it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dustin, what did you get?” Mike turned to him next.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dustin smirked before dumped the contents of his bag across the table. Snacks. Just… snacks. “Well, alrighty. So, we’ve got… Nutty Bars, Bazooka, Pez, Smarties, Pringles, Nilla Wafers, apple, banana, and trail mix.” He rattled off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seriously?” Lucas pinned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We need energy for our travels. For stamina. And besides, why do we even need weapons anyway? We have her.” Dustin reasoned, gesturing towards Eleven.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She shut</span>
  <em>
    <span> one</span>
  </em>
  <span> door!” Lucas argued.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“With her mind!” Dustin retorted “Are you kidding me? That’s insane! Imagine all the other cool stuff she could do. Like, I bet…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He darted for the replica Millenium Falcon in the corner. “That she could make this fly!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven was too busy fiddling with the radio to care as he waved it in front of her;</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey! Okay. Concentrate.” He let the toy go and it clattered to the floor as everyone suffered secondhand embarrassment. “Okay, one more time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dustin stooped to pick it up and presented it to her once more. “Use your powers, okay?” He says as it hits the floor again to no one's surprise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Idiot.” Lucas chided.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida rolled her eyes and snatched the stupid toy for herself and tossing it aside. “Eleven isn’t a dog. She’s not going to perform tricks for you on command, so stop expecting her to.” Her voice rose like it always did in these situations. She loathed confrontation, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her from standing up for her friends.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Besides… I…” Frida wavered, unsure of how to even begin. How would they react? Lucas’s words played on repeat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Weirdo. Weirdo. Weirdo.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“</span>
  </em>
  <span>I should have told you all sooner but I couldn’t bring myself to until now. Now that Eleven has shown me I’m not alone.” Frida rambled, psyching herself up as the boys stared in bemusement. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alone in what?” Mike prodded, looking at her, his eyes searching her expression. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida inhaled, her resolve shaken until Eleven grabbed her hand, squeezing it for a moment, the touch fleeting as she withdrew.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eleven has made me realize that I’m not a basket case. I haven’t been hallucinating. I’ve— I can… I can tell what you’re all thinking. Anyone of you. I don’t know how long, just that I always have. Ever since I can remember. I thought it was normal, to hear the conversations of others. To hear what people really thought of you. Mother told me I just have good intuition but… I knew.” Frida hadn’t taken a breath and hadn’t realized it until she grew lightheaded, winded from her exhausting explanation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The confession gushed forth, unpracticed and sloppy. Not a single face wasn’t screwed up at her, clearly in disbelief. She finally inhaled, finding that she was trembling after the fact. No one was saying anything, except Dustin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He snapped his fingers and pointed at her with wide eyes. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. I knew it! I just fucking knew!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucas looked like he was about to burst. A vein bulged on his forehead and he just shook his head, saying. “Nah. No. Nope. You’re all crazy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike looked between Frida and Eleven, as if he’d find some further explanation there but came up empty-handed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dustin threw his hands up, “Pop quiz! For all the nonbelievers. Frida, what number am I thinking of?” He cupped his hand over Lucas’s ear to relay it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida let the shackles of restraint fall away, the feeling akin to taking a deep breath. Like a limb she’d neglected, it ached to stretch. She unfurled the energy residing within and it extended towards Dustin, sweeping its fingers inside the nooks and crannies. The mind didn’t have one track, it had thousands, expanding in every direction, constantly breaking and rejoining, converging in giant knots. It was enough to make her dizzy if she really searched, but usually, a peek was enough to know.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“36 million, seven hundred thousand and twenty-two?” Frida answered. Lucas and Dustin’s jaws slackened in response.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I told you.” Dustin snickered, elbowing Lucas. “Here, try it again. What sentence am I thinking of?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uhh… ‘Hey, Lucas let me pretend to whisper a sentence to you and see if Frida is really listening. Irish wristwatch. Alvin’s hot juice box.” Frida laughed, stopping short at Mike’s cutting look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You haven’t been cheating in DnD, have you… ?” Mike asked, shirking back. As if he couldn’t bear to know.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course not! I’d never do something like that!”  Frida exclaimed. “I don’t like looking at all. I just want to be normal, you know? It’s like… the more i’d use it as a kid, the better it’d be— but then it’d be that much harder to shut off. So I’d just be sitting in school hearing a hundred voices at once.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She covered her ears now at the memory. It’d been easier to pretend. To put up a barrier between her and others. It’d been a fight to stop naturally seeking people’s minds. They were open books, easy to pry open and have a look. To not use her powers was akin to going through life hopping on one leg. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t you tell me— us sooner?” Mike’s face made her heartbreak. She hadn’t meant to hide, but she couldn’t bear to have him look at her like she were a freak.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… I just wanted to be normal. And when I found out about hearing other people’s thoughts </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> normal… well.” Frida shrugged. “I thought keeping quiet was the right thing to do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They gang was absolutely abuzz with questions, but they’d all have to wait.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Time for school, kids!” Mom shouted from the kitchen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dustin made an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture. “Later, you spill those beans. I want to know how many of my thoughts you peeped on!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boys filled out of the room, but not before Mike wrapped her up in a crushing hug, a rare exchange from her brother. He didn’t release her, just squeezed and said, “You can always— </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> always tell me anything. That’s what brothers are for, you know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida felt lighter than air. How easily they’d accepted the news. She felt like she was still in a dream.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike pulled away and shrugged his backpack on, pointing to Eleven. “Stay safe. Stay out of trouble.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida nodded, waiting for Mike to trot up the stairs for a quiet moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mike’s right. Stay safe down here and try not to make any noise. Don’t leave okay? If you get hungry, go eat Dustin’s snacks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Frida! You’re going to be late!” Mom warned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Coming!” Frida turned to face El. “You know those power lines?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Power lines?” Eleven asked, her head tilting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. The ones behind my house?” Frida made a sweeping motion with her hands, imitating the long cords.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” Eleven replied with the hint of a smile, leaning forward.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Meet us there, after school,” Frida instructed, wincing as soon as the words left her mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“After school?” Eleven asked obliviously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! At 3:15”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven seemed happy to be involved but terribly unsure. Her lack of understanding about the most trivial things made Frida unnerved. She didn’t know about school. She didn’t know about time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Here,” Frida slipped her wristwatch off and buckled it around Eleven’s, tightening the fit on her slender frame. “When the numbers read three-one-five, meet us at the power lines.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven scratched the watch band and sniffed it tentatively, repeating back. “Three-one-five.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Three-one-five.” Frida nodded, glancing over her shoulder as her Mother’s feet started stomping to the basement door. “I’ll see you soon, okay? Don’t worry. You’re safe here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She turned to flit away but Eleven drew her back and opened her arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“W… El?” Frida stammered as El’s arms awkwardly looped around her waist. “Oh. You just wanted a hug, huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven was stiff and unpracticed, like walking into a mannequin’s embrace. She nodded tersely before letting go. “Hug.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida’s tummy felt floaty all of a sudden and she felt the need to keep her flushed face from view. She slung on her backpack and hurried up the stairs, knees wobbling the entire way.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida searched the ground for the perfect rock, picking up an oval-shaped one from the grass and holding it up for Lucas.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Perfect.” He pocketed it, dismissing Dustin’s offering. “Too big for the sling.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, do you think Eleven was born with her powers, like the X-Men, or do you think she acquired them, like… like Green Lantern?” Dustin asked, his voice thinned as he bent over to inspect the ground.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s not a superhero. She’s a weirdo.” Lucas said before biting his tongue between his teeth and shooting Frida a glance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why does that matter? The X-Men are weirdos.” Frida retorted, tiring of the hunched over search and standing straight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah? Well, if you love Eleven so much, why don’t you marry her?” Lucas goaded with a shit-eating grin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida’s face burned but she managed to keep her voice from wiggling as she asked cooly, “What are you talking about?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucas gave a ‘what gives?’ gesture. “Frida. Come on. Seriously? Like everybody else doesn’t notice?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Notice what?” Frida felt her walls going up. There was nothing to notice. Eleven was just her… friend.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You look at her all, like…” Lucas put his hands over his chest and imitated Frida, “Hi, El! El! El! El! I love you so much! Would you marry me?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dustin chuckled on the sidelines as Lucas wrapped his arms around her. She shoved him away and he got down on one knee.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up, Lucas.” Frida grumbled, a trio of kids approaching them in her distraction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, shut up, Lucas.” Troy snickered, waltzing up with his hands in his pockets and Sierra on his arm. “What are you losers doing out here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Probably looking for their missing friends.” Troy’s shadow, James said, his tone anything but concerned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not funny. It’s serious. He’s in danger.” Dustin cut in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I hate to break it to you, Toothless, but he’s not in danger. He’s dead. That’s what my dad says. He said he was probably killed by some other queer.” Troy said, directing the last venom laced word towards Frida before he and his buddies began to laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sierra smirked at her from over Troy’s shoulder, giggling when Mike tried to quell the situation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on. Just ignore them.” Mike sighed, leading Frida forward with a reassuring hand on her back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida glared before passing by them, not noticing Sierra jutting out her leg to trip her. She stumbled, falling face first and busting her lip against a rock. A thread of pain surged from her mouth to her gums to her brain. She winced, willing only blood to spill and not tears as the sting of the wound dissipated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whoops!” Sierra cackled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Watch where you’re going, Tomboy!” Troy snickered, high-fiving Sierra in a display of douchbaggery so palpable it gave Frida whiplash. She had to have a laugh as the gang helped her up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike’s fists were balled so tight his knuckles were cracked white. He lunged forward but was stopped by Frida tugging him back. She didn’t need to read his mind to know exactly what he was thinking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not worth it. Let’s just go.” Frida reason with a shrug, something that seemed to agitate Sierra. She huffed, turning her nose up at her and her little gaggle of bullies filed away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You all right?” Dustin asked, dusting the grass from her knees.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Frida whistled, her mouth still ringing with a dull pain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey. How about this one?” Dustin asked, stopping to snatch up and present a heavy black rock, jagged and small. Perfect for the Wrist Rocket.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. That’s the one.” Frida nodded, rising the hill of despair to appreciate what true friends she had.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah ” Dustin agreed, patting her back and handing the stone over to Lucas.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucas looked it over critically before cracking a grin, humoring them for the first time by saying. “Oh, yeah, this is the monster killer!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida looked habitually to her wrist to check to time and remembered leaving it with Eleven. “Hope she’s not too bored waiting on us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucas cracked a self-satisfied grin, glancing between her and the gang with an almost smug expression.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s the look for?” Frida sniffed, tucking her chilly hands into her jacket.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.” Lucas insinuated in a sing-song as they headed back with the recess bell.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Frida couldn’t quell her excitement as they neared home. She peeled into the yard with the gang close behind and spotted El waiting by the power pole, her gaze cast towards the sky, shaken and unblinking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, El, you okay?” Frida asked, not buying the tight nod Eleven gave in response. She patted the back of her banana seat. “Hop on! We’ve only got a few hours.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven hesitated but ultimately saddled up. She rest her feet on the spokes and her hands around Frida’s waist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“H-Hold on tight,” Frida warned, pedaling harder than before, trying not to appear winded as the bike trudged through the lawn. The coast to Mirkwood was a breeze, however, and Frida could almost forget Eleven had tagged along for the ride were it not for her heart absolute jackhammering from having the other girl so damn close.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for waiting,” Frida told her as they neared their destination.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven nodded, her focus seeming far off. Something wasn’t quite right, but Frida wouldn’t press. Eleven didn’t seem to like pressure one bit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They arrived to Mirkwood and everyone hopped off their bikes to walk them through the woods. Frida tried to keep her head tilted away from Eleven, to hide her busted lip, but it wasn’t of much use.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven was curious and asked bluntly, “Why did they hurt you?” Knowing immediately it was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>them</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Someone had hurt her, not something, and Eleven picked up on that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida lied through her teeth. “I just fell at recess.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven’s face screwed up in disbelief. “Frida…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Frida shot back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Friends tell the truth,” Eleven stated matter-of-factly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida sighed, cornered to spill. She rolled her head on her shoulders, bashful. Eleven didn’t need to know Frida wasn’t a Cool Kid. “I was tripped by this absolute donkey. Real loser of a mouth breather, Sierra, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The truth didn’t make her feel lighter. It made her want to crawl into a hole. She couldn’t explain it, but it hurt to even think of burdening Eleven with the reality. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mouth breather?” Eleven asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you know… a dumb person. A knucklehead.” Frida explained, easily forgetting that Eleven was missing a lot of critical understanding about the world around her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Knucklehead?” Eleven blinked, waiting for an explanation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Rocks for brains.” Frida laughed dryly. “I don’t know why I just didn’t tell you. Everyone at school knows. I just didn’t want you to think I was such a wastoid, you know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Frida…” Eleven started in a chastising tone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I understand.” Eleven smiled. “You’re not a… wastoid.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida’s heart thudded. She could feel the gang rolling their eyes. “Oh? R-Really? Cool.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cool.” Eleven repeated, not breaking eye contact until Frida did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The days were short in winter and it was already getting dark in the naked woods. The wind cut through Eleven’s sweatshirt and she shivered, her teeth chattering until Frida threw her warm coat over her shoulders. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Better?” Frida asked, patting the puffy sleeves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Better!” Eleven chirped, snuggling deeper into the oversized jacket.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As they carried on towards Will’s house, Frida expected to be bombarded with questions from the boys, but they’d trickled in politely.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Will cleared his throat before each one, his most nervous of tells. He danced around words, trying not to prod or offend, but Frida could tell what he wanted to say.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘You could have trusted me, I’m your brother.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All the more reason to keep it to herself. Mike was her brother. The last person she wanted thinking she was a freak. She’d convinced herself over the years there was nothing selfish about wanting a normal life. She was doing her family a favor, or at least she’d thought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The shocked expression on Mike’s face when she rattled off what Dustin had been thinking… she’d never get it out of her head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Will’s house came in to view and Frida noticed the car was missing and the lights were dimmed, yet someone was home. She could feel their frantic thoughts now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was Joyce, confused and desperate. Frida tried to pinpoint the more coherent bursts on her train of thought but felt tethered to someone else. Someone more familiar.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will,” Frida muttered, low enough that no one heard. Eleven seemed preoccupied as the marched closer towards the Byer’s home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here,” Eleven said, turning to face the group.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike blinked. “Yeah, here is where Will lives,” he said dryly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven fidgeted, shaking her head. “Hiding.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida felt a snake of dread coiling tight in her stomach.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no, this is where he lives.” Mikes went on to explain, growing irritated. “He’s missing from here, understand?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucas let his bike fall to the ground and huffed. “What are we doing here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike turned to him with. “She said he’s hiding here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida nodded, “I think she’s right. Don’t you guys feel that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Feel what, Professor X?” Dustin asked, shivering when a cold wind blew in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida felt it again. A tug. Like someone wanted their thoughts invaded. If she shut her eyes and drowned all else, she could see a sort of thread strung between her and the house, between her and </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>. A network of vines shooting from her feet. She blinked and the vision disappeared.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um… no.” Lucas laughed humorlessly, looking up at the darkened sky.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dustin groaned. “I swear if we walked all the way out here for nothing— “ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s exactly what we did!” Lucas interjected, throwing his hands up before making a chopping motion towards Eleven. “I told you she doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why did you bring us here?” Mikes asked, the spike of annoyance in his voice catching Frida and El both off guard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>“Since when did El bring us here? She just said this is where Will is.” Frida put herself between their scrutinizing gazes and Eleven.</span> <span>“We’re the ones who set Operation Mirkwood in motion, not her.”.</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mike, don’t waste your time with either of them. The weirdo has clearly infected Frida, too.” Lucas rolled his eyes, picking his bike back up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you want to do then?” Mike scoffed, his shoulder hiking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Call the cops like we should have done yesterday,” Lucas said cooly, throwing his leg over his seat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We are not calling the cops.” Mike deadpanned, setting Frida at ease on that end. At least they were still in agreement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Like a summons, the dull whine of sirens cut through the dry winter air.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, guys?” Dustin tried to interrupt their little spat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What other choice do we have?” Lucas retorted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Guys!” Dustin yelled, shoving past Lucas and Mike to point at a line of squad cars heading down the road with an ambulance and fire engine in tow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida felt her blood run cold. “Will,” she breathed, struggling to control her nerves as she saddled up on her bicycle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’re headed towards the quarry,” Frida noted, her voice muted in her ringing ears. She motioned for Eleven to hop on. The jumping in her chest only stalled when Eleven’s hands perched gently on her shoulders for support.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pedaled down the road ahead of the pack by a few feet, her mind spinning the entire way. This can’t be about him. This couldn’t be about him. Frida had felt him, she just knew it— and she wasn’t alone. El knew it, too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay.” Eleven soothed as they neared the quarry entrance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida skidded to a stop, gravel rolling beneath her feet as she bolted towards the line of patrol cars. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Frida, wait!” Mike warned, coming to her side as they tucked close behind a fire truck to survey the commotion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a heavy pause, Frida couldn’t see anything beyond beige shoulders a fluorescent emergency respondent vests. There must have been a dozen or more people present and the crowd was stark silent as the black quarry water rest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All of a sudden, two divers emerged with a body too small to have been an adult’s. Frida swayed, the contents of her stomach threatening to spill.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No… no. No. No. That can’t… that can’t be Will.” She stammered, her chest rising and falling as she struggled to get a deep enough breath. She clutched her shirt tight and squeezed, not noticing now how icy her skin had become without her jacket. She felt numb. She felt everything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven was close behind her, trying to say something, but Frida couldn’t hear anything above the drumbeat of panic clambering.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A bloated corpse was set carefully upon a gurney, wearing the clothes Will had been wearing the day he disappeared. At once, Frida was struck by something odd. The quarry wasn’t a mile from Will’s house. He knew these woods better than anyone, it’s impossible he was lost all this time and just now fell in and drowned. His vest was so vivid, his skin not a bit discolored. This wasn’t the corpse of a boy who died in the ravine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This wasn’t the corpse of Will.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida couldn’t quite comprehend what her senses were telling her and she scanned the stunned crowd for a sign of something amiss. She struck gold in the form of a woman’s bizarre thoughts. She wasn’t shocked to see a dead child, waterlogged and puffy from decomposing. She was excited.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Perfect. Perfect! It looks exactly like the real thing, I’m impressed. Even the paramedics are fooled.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Yes. Yes. Now the press can rest their case and we can focus on finding her.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida managed to tear her eyes away long enough to see her brother on the verge of shambles. He tilted backwards, as if compelled by something deep inside of him to move away. To be Done with this and move on. Hit pause and take a breather.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida sifted through her tumultuous thoughts, trying to find the right thing to say. She could only bring herself to tell him, “That’s not Will.” Her words seemed to pass clean through him like a blade and he glared at her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not Will. It can’t be.” Frida persisted, her mouth moving before her brain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Will shook his head, unable to process what was happening. What Frida was trying to tell him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El teetered on the edge, her back turned towards the emergency crew, her fuzzy hair backlit by the flickering police lights. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The gurney chugged across the wet sand, paramedics steered the body towards the back of a waiting ambulance, it’s wail silenced.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s Will. It’s really Will,” Lucas scrubbed a palm over his face, clasping his hand over his mouth as soon as Will’s name left his tongue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven reached to comfort a grieving Mike who swatted her gentle hand away like a cornered animal. His face was twisted, his lips curled back against his teeth as he glowered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mike?” Eleven whispered, her hands falling by her side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘Mike?’ Mike, What?” He sneered, lurching for someone to pivot is anger towards.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven winced, wounded instantly. Frida couldn't get between them fast enough.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You were supposed to help us find him</span>
  <em>
    <span> alive</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You said he was alive! Why did you lie to us?” Mike asked bitterly, pointing a finger at Eleven as she stared like a deer in headlights. “What’s wrong with you? What is </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong </span>
  </em>
  <span>with you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mike…” Eleven rasped. Her face shrouded in shadow as her head tilted down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s enough!” Frida shouted as El verged on the cusp of tears, her dark eyes dewy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mike, come on. Don’t do this, man. Mike.” Lucas pleaded, the surprising voice of reason as his chin warbled and a single tear spilled down his cheek.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay. This isn’t your fault, okay? Okay?” Frida made El look at her and gave her a little shake. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Mike is just angry. He’s not thinking straight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mike, where are you going? Mike?” Dustin asked as Mike hopped on his bike and tore away without so much as a glance back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eleven was silent, completely at a loss for how to react and it made Frida’s heartache. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” Eleven blubbered, looking past Frida too the ambulance doors shutting. It hit her in that instant that they were surrounded by government workers ready to question the kids closely connected to the case and Eleven wouldn’t be able to answer anything without giving herself away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida panicked at the possibility of a nosy detective asking about Eleven and carting her away, sticking her in the system to be filtered through. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We should go,” Frida suggested, not wanting to be here a second longer, especially if Mike was biking home by himself. “El, hop on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But El stood rigid and needed to be ushered gently to the seat. She settled in and rest her head on Frida’s back. She hid her face and took a deep breath, her voice trembling as she said, “I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you enjoyed the third chapter of the story, I had fun reading it of course. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>(This Chapter is credited to Commander_Shepard).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Frida shut the fridge door behind her, balancing two glasses of grape juice in one hand while Mom and Dad pretended not to stare from the living room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They sat huddled together, not the only ones that seemed affected by the news circulating the media. Frida found it hard to tune out now as the T.V. blared.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Byer’s body was found in the water of this quarry by state police earlier this evening. It was discovered by state trooper David O’Bannon, just after dark. The state police are mounting an investigation to determine the cause of death, but an initial inquiry— ‘</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You doing okay, kiddo?” Dad asked, blinking slowly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida heard the caster behind her rattling on, something about ‘foul play’ while she shuffled to the stairs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m okay, Dad.” Frida said, trying to sound a bit less than okay. There would be absolutely no convincing them of the truth. That Will Byer’s body had most certainly not been found in the quarry earlier this evening.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We are </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> right here if you need to talk, sweetheart. I hope you know that. Especially now.” Mom had her hands fit together with Dad’s, sitting closer to him than she’d seen in a long time. Of course her parents loved one another, but it was… nice. Seeing them brought together, even in the given (supposed) circumstances.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know. And… thank you. It’s just going to take a lot to get used to,” Frida said with a somber smile, skirting around any outright lies.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mom nodded right along. “Exactly. God, the two of you must still be in shock.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Should I go down and talk to Michael?” Dad asked, doing that ‘pretend to get up’ thing before Frida shook her head and watched him whump back into the couch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s fine, really. We’ve just been talking about everything.” Frida sighed, glancing up to the door she hadn’t properly shut behind her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mom agreed, “Give him time. He’ll come to us when he’s ready.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida took the steps two at a time and hurried into her and Mike’s room, finding him sitting cross legged on his bed, thumbing through an old three ring binder. Drawings through the years compiled from all of them, mostly Will. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike stared at each page for an extended time, his eyes raking over every detail, a warm smile gently tugged at the corners of his firm mouth, dashed away when Frida offered El a presipiring glass. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El was so distracted playing with the radio she didn’t notice. She turned the knob back and forth, bringing it to her ear occasionally, shaking it and tuning again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“El,” Frida snagged her attention, handing El her drink. “Wanna take a break for a second?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El grinned up at her, shaking her head, glancing from Frida to Mike, who’d still not said a word since leaving the quarry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Static crackled in the awkward silence. The rare times she and Mike had fought through the years said that pushing would only make things worse. She wanted to take a bike ride around to clear her scrambled head but couldn’t leave El alone with a volatile Mike.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A particularly loud pop of electricity sounded from the radio speaker, making Frida flinch. It felt like two strong digits thumped the back of Frida’s neck just then. El looked at her, expression unreadable.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida could hear something garbled beyond the white noise and listened intently, leaning closer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you please stop that?” Mike snapped from behind them, glaring over his pictures.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida scoffed, waving her hand for him to hush. “Quiet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El did cut the radio off, for a moment, cranking it back on with a loud whirring sound.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That made a nerve in Mike’s jaw twitch and he shut the three ring binder. “Are you two deaf?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El tuned him out or at least attempted to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Calm down, Mike,” Frida quelled, hairs on her neck raising as the noise coming through the speaker became more intelligible, more recognizable. She could tell it was a voice, someone speaking frantic and hushed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought we were friends, you know? But friends tell each other the truth. And they definitely don’t lie to each other,” Mike said, staring at El, gaining her attention and keeping it fixed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s enough,” Frida rubbed her temples. “El isn’t lying to us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El didn’t argue. She looked past Frida, her pretty brown eyes brimming with tears that she struggled not to let spill. It made Frida’s chest ache.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You made me think Will was okay, that he was still out there, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t!” Mike left his seat to stomp across the room. Frida wouldn’t let him get close and positioned herself between her brother and El.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike continued to release his misguided anger and grief in a flurry of harsh remarks, stabbing his finger at El over Frida’s shoulder. “Maybe you thought you were helping, but you weren’t. You hurt me. Do you understand? What you did </span>
  <em>
    <span>sucks</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t say something you’ll just end up regretting.” Frida warned, losing patience. She’d never seen Mike so angry. “If you don’t keep your voice down…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? If I don’t keep my voice down, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?</span>
  </em>
  <span> The cops or the ‘Bad Men’ show up to take Eleven, is that it, Frida?” As nastily as he delivered that, Frida could see guilt flickering in his eyes. He could pretend to be uncaring, but Frida knew better— and that was without probing his mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The radio choked, static began to buzz so loudly that Frida couldn’t hear the conversation taking place around her. Mike was still arguing, saying something to El.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Through the chaos, a thread of clarity revealed itself, like a light string in a dark closet. She reached for it, tugging to illuminate a haunting scene. Water and dust, mold and opaque, yawning blackness that went on endlessly in all directions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lucas was right about you. All along,” Mike snapped, his voice far away in Frida’s ears. She heard a sharp ringing and then felt another harsh flick to the back of her neck. A warm, comforting rush of touch on her prickling nape brought her back to the Now and she gasped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Frida… ?” El called, tugging the back of Frida’s shirt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>So come on and let me know. Should I stay or should I go? Should I stay or should I go?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nobody said a word as a voice, Will’s voice, came clearly through. El stared, blood slowly spilled from her left nostril. A wry smile came across her face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida, who knew Will was very much still alive, was still just as shocked as Mike to hear his voice again. Distant and weak as it was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike’s mouth opened and closed, speechless. El brought the radio closer for him to hear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“If I go there will be trouble. If I stay there will be double.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will, is that you? It’s Mike! Do you copy? Over,” Mike pressed his thumb over the receiver. “Will, are you there? Will?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you hear us, Will?” Frida asked as the radio went completely silent, just the soft hiss of static responding now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida’s heart was jumping, a weird mix of relief and anticipation. She half expected Mike to still be angry, to accuse Frida and El of lying to him somehow. But her brother simply sat in disbelief, chest rising and falling. He seemed to gather himself for a moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Was that… was it…. ?“ Mike trailed, seeming unable to reach the realization alone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nobody else it could have been.” Frida assured, reality setting in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El nodded, saying in earnest, “Will.”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida dreaded going into school, more so lately than usual with El waiting at home. She was sleeping in the basement now, usually didn’t get up until another hour or so.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Will had apologized profusely for his outbursts yesterday and had been quickly forgiven— after Frida explained to El what exactly an apology was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mom’s telltale heavy footfalls came down the hall. She knocked once before peeking inside their room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, how are you guys feeling?” She asked, easing inside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida sighed, setting up in bed. “Weird,” she admitted. Now that Mike believed that Will was alive, she was unsure of where to go from here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think we can make it to school today,” Mike curtly said, a faux despair in his voice that their Mom didn’t pick up on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She nodded, “That’s fine sweetie. I need to drop off Nance, and then I’m gonna check in on Barb’s parents. Why don’t you two grab a book or something and come with me? We can stop by the video store on the way back, you can pick out whatever you want. Even R-rated.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The enticement was there. Frida had been wanting to watch American Werewolf...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think I just want to stay home today. I mean, if that’s okay?” Mike shuffled around in his sheets. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, me too.” Frida draped her arm over the top bunk railing, putting her hand in her Mom’s, feeling the warm stroke of her thumbs across her knuckles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, are you sure you’re gonna be alright here? Just the two of you?” Mom asked concernedly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think so.” Mike responded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mom sighed. “Okay. But if you guys need anything, call Dad at work.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Mike agreed, a pinch of relief coloring his tone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bye, Mom,” Frida smiled, “We’ll be fine. Promise.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mom lingered for a moment longer, and Frida took just a peek into her muddled thoughts, a whirling mix of, ‘Don’t hover. Give them the space they need.’ and ‘Am I being distant? Should I insist harder?’ She finally stepped out, but Frida didn’t relax until she heard the front door shut and the car putter out of the driveway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike didn’t waste a second to roll out of bed and snag the walkie talkie on the dresser. “Lucas, do you copy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Silence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida shimmied down the ladder and grabbed a change of clothes. Nothing made her feel worse than laying around all day in pajamas.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike clicked the receiver, “”Lucas, come on. I know you’re there. This is urgent. I’m serious!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another beat of radio nothingness and Frida grew pensive. Lucas and Dustin were still grieving. As far as they knew, Will was dead and they’d watched the paramedics pull his bloated and blue body out of the quarry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not gonna stop until you answer, Lucas! Lucas. Lucas, Lucas, Lucas, Lucas, Lucas, Lucas— “</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go away, Mike. I’m not in the mood, all right? Over and out.” Lucas snapped before going quiet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, not ‘out’. I’m not messing around, okay? This is about Will. Over.” Mike looked to Frida with a hopeful expression when Lucas picked back up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about Will? You mean about his funeral? Over.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, not his funeral. Screw is funeral!” Mike said, if not a bit callously, earning him a look from Frida.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Lucas asked, tone biting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you just come over? We know you’re not going to school today either,” Frida persuaded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You two don’t know anything,” Lucas retorted, alluding to more than his absence. He wasn’t protesting though.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just get over here stat. And bring Dustin. Over and out,” Mike relayed one last time before setting the radio aside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You think we can actually convince him?” Frida speculated that Lucas would be the harder of her two friends when it came to understanding or accepting. She just prayed that Will had something to say if and when they reached him once again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’ll have no choice but to believe when he hears Will’s voice for himself.” Mike stated without a hint of doubt.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>El peeked from her nest of blankets, joining the gang excitedly. She was withdrawn with Lucas but expectant that he’d come around to liking her eventually.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She fiddled with the radio while everyone watched, glued and wordless as they listened to the static. Frida welcomed that warm tickling sensation itching the back of her neck just as sound slipped through the airwaves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An indistinct whimpering, soft and broken, came through the speaker. The signal was weak and the voice was muted, but Frida knew. Will.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The whimpering stopped and Mike looked smugly at Lucas and then to Dustin. “We keep losing the signal, but you heard it, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucas had his chin propped in his hand. He blinked, furrowing his brows. “Yeah, I heard a baby,” he dismissed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Mike gawked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can’t seriously think that’s what babies sound like when they cry.” Frida scoffed. “That was him!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucas rolled his eyes. “You two obviously tapped into a baby monitor. It’s probably the Blackburns’ next door.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh, did that sound like a baby to you?” Mike proded, repeating Frida’s concerns. “That was Will.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mike…” Lucas sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lucas, you don’t understand. He spoke last night. Words! He was singing that weird song he loves. El and Frida both heard him,” Mike argued, throwing his hands up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucas turned mock excited, “Oh, well, if the weirdo heard him, then I guess— “</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure you’re on the right channel?” Dustin asked in earnest, leaning towards Mike.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think it’s about that. I think, somehow, she’s channeling him. And Frida says she can feel him too, like he’s right beside her sometimes,” Mike explained, looking to Frida for assurance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She nodded, “Exactly. It’s like we’re both in the pool playing Marco Polo, except we’re both shouting Polo.” She made a blind sweeping motion like she was searching blindly for something in the dark. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like… like Professor X.” Dustin gasped, lighting up whenever the conversation drifted towards El and Frida’s abilities.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah!” Mike agreed, mirroring Dustin’s enthusiasm. Finally, at least one of them was starting to come around.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucas blew out a puff of air, whistling and dry. He looked from Frida, to Mike, and then to Dustin, shaking his head. “Are you actually believing this crap?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I dunno… I mean…” Dustin shrugged. “Do you remember when Will fell off his bike and broke his finger? He sounded a lot like that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you guys not </span>
  <em>
    <span>see</span>
  </em>
  <span> what </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> saw? They pulled Will’’s body out of the water. He’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Lucas, beyond frustrated, looked about ready to leave. He rubbed his knees, scratching the coarse fabric of his jeans with his nails. More a nervous habit than anything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, maybe it’s his ghost. Maybe he’s haunting us,” Dustin suggested somberly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not his ghost,” Mike stated flat out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So how do you know that?” Lucas speculated. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just do!” Mike fired back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If Will is a ghost haunting us, then he’s doing a pretty terrible job.” Frida knew how hard this was to hear, especially after last night.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then what was in that water?” Lucas asked, rightfully disbelieving.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know!” Mike exclaimed. “All I know is Will is alive. Will is </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive</span>
  </em>
  <span>! He’s out here somewhere. All we have to do is find him.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s true. He’s cold and he’s scared and he’s waiting for us to find him and bring him home,” Frida asserted, praying her voice didn’t warble as it was so prone to do when speaking up for anyone, especially herself. But recently, instead of fearing embarrassing herself in front of El, she came to find El a direct source of comfort and motivation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t know the life she’s lived, but I know my challenges don’t compare. If she’s here, then I can do anything.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dustin and Lucas showed cracks in their defenses, even if no one said a word for a heavy pause. Just the sound of static popping weakly through the speaker. El hadn’t looked up from her ministrations and continuously turned the dial, desperate to find a clean connection.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dustin might be on to something,” Frida surmised. “What if it’s not about the channel, but the strength of El’s ‘signal’.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike’s face journeyed from pensive thought to dawning realization.  He snapped his fingers.“We need to get El to a stronger radio.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dustin smiled and canted his head towards Frida as he said, “Know what I’m thinking? Mr. Clarke’s Heathkit ham shack.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Mike nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Heathkit’s at school. There's no way we’re gonna get the weirdo in there without anyone noticing. I mean… look at her.” Lucas gestured towards El.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida was looking alright, not long though, too much lingering made her chest constrict and her palms start to sweat. El was pretty, conventionally and uniquely beautiful in every sense, but most certainly different. Her buzzed hair and clipped dialogue wasn’t going to fool anyone in this state.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Static squealed and Frida reached to take the radio from El to say, “I think I have an idea.”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>For once in her life, Frida cursed herself for not having more ‘girly’ clothes. She doubted El would complain about loose fitting blue jeans and faded band shirts, but something told her El would prefer finer things.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To Nancy’s room she and Mike went, pilfering through her drawers and wardrobe to find pretties to adorn El in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A bit of makeup and some cute jewelry, Dustin and Lucas had procured a costume wig and one of Frida’s old Easter dresses from the basement. Her stomach churned just recalling that fateful holiday years back. Too many cream eggs and spins on the park merry-go-round had seen her puking in the car before they pulled into the driveway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El stared at the group’s offerings, seeming perplexed most by the fake mop of hair and the vials of lacquered color.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida ushered the boys out, giving her and El privacy. She did politely turn her back while El slipped on the dress, only facing her again when she heard the zipper being discordantly tugged and El’s huffs of frustration. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can’t… “ El griped, poking Frida to gain her attention.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I gotcha, I gotcha,” Frida eased, tugging the zipper all the way up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El toyed with the frilly hem of the dress, picking at the buttons and lace, fidgeting at the stuffy fit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How’s that feel?” Frida asked, opening a compact full of beige cream. She was only half-sure how to use this… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Weird,” El stated, grinning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida daubed the cotton makeup pad and brought it to El’s face, undaunted when El flinched.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“S’okay. I know, I hate this kinda stuff, too.” Frida relayed, gently bringing it back to press lightly, almost soothingly. She smeared cream under El’s dark circle, blending it just how Nancy and Mom did at the mirror in the morning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There we go,” Frida admired her handiwork. Not bad for a girl who didn’t wear this kinda stuff. Next was the lipstick, which she hoped wouldn't be too jarring a color on El’s pale, pretty face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida hadn’t realized until she had El’s dainty chin cupped in her hand how close they were. She could feel El’s exhalations fanning across her face, could tell that she was looking deeply into her eyes, glancing occasionally to the narrow brush Frida brought to her lips. She laid it on even and thin, just a bit of color. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El rubbed her lips together and went to touch it with her fingers until Frida steered her away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh! The final touch!” Frida brushed the costume wig as best as she could, pleasantly surprised to find it wasn’t a prop at all but a dilapidated lace front that would actually look more than convincing on El’s head, not to mention the lack of hair on her scalp currently made for a perfect fit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once complete, Frida took a step back, giving El a heart pounding once over. She’d always been a beauty, but this was certainly a welcome sight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her palms were sweating almost too heavily for her to open the door and usher them out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How’s this?” Frida asked, doing a presentative jazz hand routine for El to nervously step out to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The gang was noticeably star struck, almost suspicious. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wow… she looks…” Dustin trailed, his jaw slacker than usual.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pretty,” Mike said, almost involuntarily it sounded like. “Uh— good. You look pretty good.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Very</span>
  </em>
  <span> pretty good,” Frida agreed with a giggle, earning her a digging elbow courtesy of Dustin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oooh, your face is turning red. Don’t need Professor X powers to know what you’re thinking.” Dustin teased, saying in his best Frida voice, “Oh, El~! You’re so beautiful I can’t stand it. Kiss me now, mwah mwah!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will you! Hush!” Frida wished she could disappear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her mortification doubled when El tilted her head and asked, “Kiss?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boys erupted in laughter, the sound distant and ringing in Frida’s ears as her cheeks burned with embarrassment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El didn’t seem to notice anything was amiss however as she looked at herself in the mirror, twirling her dress and toying with the ends of her wig. She stared deeply at her reflection, a soft expression blooming, reading clearly something as painful as it was heartwarming.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This is who she could have been if she’d lived a normal life. Frida severely doubted it was El’s choice to shear her hair so short and this game of dress up gave her a glimpse into a life she deserved.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El smiled at herself and glanced back at Frida over her shoulder, saying proudly, “Pretty. Good.”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>El’s hands are perched on Frida’s shoulders as they pedal through town. She was entranced by the busy streets and shop fronts. She craned her head to get a look at all the people milling about in the bright daylight, and it occurred to Frida that this might be the first time El had ever seen something like this. Frida didn't really like to follow that line of thinking. What sort of world El had come from, been born and raised in, for her to not recognize cars. For her to not understand the meaning of the word ‘friend’. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t take long for them to near the school. El tensed when they pull up to the back but didn’t say anything as they slipped inside the back door. The halls were pretty empty and Frida hoped that the class change had already happened and kids weren’t going to come flooding out of their classrooms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, remember, if anyone sees us, look sad,” Mike whispered, leading them down the corridor to take a right.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Attention students, there will be an assembly to honor Will Byers in the gymnasium now. Do not go to fourth period,”  </span>
  </em>
  <span>The intercom overheard blared, making El swivel, looking for the voice speaking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they arrived at the AV room, Mike gave the handle a twist and frowned. “It’s locked,” He said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Lucas exhaled sharply, looking back over his shoulder to check the coast was clear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, do you think you can open it? With your powers?” Dustin chimed in, nodding towards El, who didn’t seem at all opposed to the idea. She stepped forward, but an intruder had them all on high alert.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Boys?” Mr. Clarke appeared behind them, a concerned look on his face. “Assembly’s about to start.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We know. We’re just, you know…” Mike trailed, stammering nervously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Upset,” Lucas finished, unconvincingly leaning against the AV room door to appear forlorned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, definitely upset,” Dustin blurted, fidgeting his fingers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We need some alone time,” Mike explained.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“To cry,” Dustin interjected.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A-And mourn. It’s just hard with so many people. So many questions.” Frida shuddered at that in earnest. An assembly was going to be a discordant choir, a clambering of noise that could barely be picked apart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, listen… I get it, I do. I know how hard this is, but let’s just be there for Will, huh? And then?” Mr.Clarke reached into his front pocket and tossed Mike the keys to the AV room. “The Heathkit is all yours for the rest of the day. What do you say?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a fair trade. He wasn’t even asking why the gang was absent for the first half of the day, so Frida was pretty ready to take the deal. The boys were visibly less tense, at least they were, until Mr.Clarke peered to El and said, “I don’t believe we’ve met. What’s your name?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El hesitated to answer, “Eleven.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eleanor!” Mike shouted completely over her. “She’s my, uh— “</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cousin!” Lucas covered frantically.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Second cousin,” Dustin added, poising two fingers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s here for Will’s funeral,” Mike said, flicking his gaze from Mr.Clarke to El.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, well, welcome to Hawkins Middle, Eleanor. I wish you were here under better circumstances.” Mr. Clarke inclined his head to her with a warm smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” El accepted, copying his posture, if only subtly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where are you from exactly?” Mr.Clarke delved, not out of suspicion, but curiosity. Frida probed his brain and it was abuzz with sympathetic thoughts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El shook her head to even recall her origins and said, “Bad place.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sweden!” Dustin blurted, a bit off course.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have a lot of Swedish family,” Mike tacked on, another one of his habits. If he lied, he lied big.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She hates it there,” Dustin hugged himself, buffing his arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cold!” Lucas cleared his throat, eyes darting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Subzero,” Dustin said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I feel like I should shut up, but I can’t.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Frida heard loud and clear emanating from Dustin’s mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mr.Clarke looked them over for a long moment and Frida started to worry their fib would come back to bite them. He shrugged, motioning for the group to follow as he led them to the gymnasium. “Shall we?”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“At times like these, it is important that we come together as a community. We come— “</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The roaring of conversation reached Frida before they made it to the gymnasium doors. She hesitated at the back of the group, until El slipped her hand in Frida’s, squeezing reassuringly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Abort,” Dustin whispered, retreating back as all eyes were on them. Lucas shoved him back, and they proceeded inside to find an empty spot on the bleachers. El received a few passing glances and Frida quickly realized they’d still been holding hands for everyone to see. Her cheeks burned, but she didn’t release her hold on El. In fact, their entertained fingers were the only force keeping her grounded right now. She felt as if she were in a pitch black forest, hunkered beside the bonfire of El’s warmth and guidance</span>
  <em>
    <span>. Just focus on the flames.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We come together to heal… we come together to grieve,” The principal droned on, reading from his podium with what sounded like all the sympathy he could muster. His voice was dry as he read continued.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Out of the corner of her eye, Frida could see Troy, Sierra, and James all present just a few rows up. Wicked thoughts and intentions more often than not screamed the loudest. A car alarm screaming in the quiet streets. Rage, rage, rage. Sierra had been full of it and Frida had pretended before not to notice it. Had aimed not to judge, because </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> has dark thoughts from time to time— it’s a matter of acting upon them or not that judges your character, and Frida has just hoped…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Freak. Queer. Fucking self pitying weirdo. Trash.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sierra’s harsh words were flung right at Frida and she flinched. El gripped her hand tighter, looking up to check her face and say without a word, “You okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida nodded tightly, curtaining off the world around them. “I’m fine, El.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will Byers’ death is an unimaginable tragedy. Will was an exceptional student and a wonderful friend to all of us. It’s impossible to express the hole his loss will leave in our community,” The principal said, motioning for a woman beside him to take the stand. “I’d like to introduce you to Sandy Sloane. She’s a local grief counselor from the church over in Jonesboro. But before she comes up here, I just want those of you who are having trouble dealing with this tragic loss to know…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look at these fakers,” Mike sneered, swiveling his head to critically scan the crowd.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They probably didn’t even know his name until today,” Lucas whispered spitefully. Frida couldn’t blame him, he was right. These people barely knew who Will was and they were pretending to grieve.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida heard Troy and Sierra chuckle with James and did her best not to turn her head and give them attention.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” James asked, still giggling, caring not a bit about their volume.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who is interested in this? This is so stupid,” Troy snorted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Troy, be nice. The other losers care.” Sierra snickered, earning her an obnoxious guffaw from her boyfriend. She clung to Troy’s arm, eyes locked with Frida’s the instant she peeked back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Blah blah blah,” Troy mocked with the most punchable expression Frida had ever seen. His lips curled to make a duck’s bill before they thinned into a harsh grimace. He pretended to sob as he said, “Oh. he was such a great student. Oh, he’s going to leave a hole in the community.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El leaned towards Frida and whispered, “Mouth breather.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In an instant, things became easier. The background speaking dulled and Frida could direct her thoughts to something, anything else. How pleasant the bike ride home would be. Or perhaps how good it would feel to give Troy one good shove and send him to the dirt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the assembly trudged on, Frida could tell Mike had reached a boiling point. He waited, coiled, until the dismissal bell finally rang. Students poured from the bleachers and onto the lacquered gymnasium floors. Mike leapt to his feet, marching forward intently to Troy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida followed suit, ready to give them a piece of her mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey. Hey! Hey, Troy!” Mike shouted, garnering the gang’s attention. While her brother and Troy were about the same height, the other clearly had weight, at least 20 pounds heavier than Mike. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Troy turned to acknowledge Mike and Frida both with disgust. She stood proudly by her brother’s side. Mike glared and said, “You… you think this is funny?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’d you say, Wheeler?” Troy asked, unlooping his arm from Sierra’s, who scowled at Frida in particular, raking her gaze critically up and down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I— I saw you guys laughing over there. And I think that’s a real messed up thing to do,” Mike stammered, nervous but not backing down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t you listen to the counselor, Wheeler?” James interjected, nodding to Troy. “Grief shows itself in funny ways.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Besides, what’s there to be sad about anyway? Will’s in fairyland now, right? Flying around with all the other little fairies. All happy and gay!” Troy laughed, raising his hands and trilling to imitate a fairy for a cringe worthy second. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe Frida could join him! She’d probably fit right in!” Sierra exclaimed gleefully before brushing them off and joining Troy and James in exiting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida felt a rush of heat unlike anything, a swift, burning rage that made her vision waver and her mouth run dry. Dark, cruel thoughts lashed her from Sierra and Troy’s mind in particular. Cutting words that made Frida move before she could think. She lurched forward and pushed with all her might, shoving Troy and sending him sprawling forward, landing hard on the wooden floors, unable to catch himself as his stomach smacked and groaned. He paused, raising up on trembling limbs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Troy glowered at Frida, lips peeling back as he scrambled up and all but snarled, “I don’t like hitting girls, but I’ll make an exception for you, Wheeler. You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He cocked back his fist to strike her but froze, completely froze mid swing, his knuckles a breath away from her nose. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida gawked, taking a step back and watching him struggle to reach her, an invisible force holding him back and keeping him in place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The crowd of students that’d gathered stared in befuddlement along with Frida and the gang. She turned to look over her shoulder to see El, face tense in concentration. When Frida glanced back forward to the suspended Troy, his expression downcast. The front of his jeans were completely soaked in his own piss.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dude, Troy peed himself!” Someone shouted and the kids went bonkers, peeling with laughter as Frida snickered, feeling not an ounce of pity for one of her most ruthless tormentors. She did however, feel bad about El straining herself. She met El with open arms, wincing when she daubed the back of her sleeve to her bleeding nose.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey! What’s going on here?” The principal called out, noticing the commotion and stampeding over to break it up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We need to go!” Lucas said, ushering them out into the teeming droves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a quick jaunt back to the AV room. Mike unlocked the door and they filled hurriedly inside, setting El down in front of the radio.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now what?” Dustin asked as Mike and Frida started up the radio.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’ll find him,” Frida promised.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike tuned the radio and El took a deep breath, letting her eyes fan shut. A sense of calm overtook the entire room as everyone poised their hopes on El, who was silent, eyes darting behind her lids.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s doing it. She’s finding him,” Mike pointed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Calm down. She just closed her eyes,” Lucas dismissed, still clinging to speculation, until the light above them popped off, leaving them with just the amber glow of the radio.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Holy…” Dustin trailed, jumping when they tuned in to something. Through the speaker, a rough banging could be heard. Repetitive and loud. Echoing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is that?” Dustin asked, cut short when another sound emanated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whimpering. Desolate and weak.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Through the mire of nothingness, Frida sensed something else in there with Will. Something hollow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Mom</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Will cried out, the agony in his wail heartbreaking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No way!” Lucas gasped, head turning back and forth, palms scrubbing his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Mom… please…” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Mike crowed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will!” Mike shouted through the receiver.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will, it’s us! Are you there?” Lucas shouted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El jostled in her seat but didn’t awaken from her trance. Frida grew worried quickly as it felt like the thread strung between them was being pulled taut. El was drifting away from her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you hear us? We’re here!” Dustin called out, desperate for Will to respond.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hello? Mom?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why can’t he hear us?” Lucas asked, throwing his hands up and slapping them back down on the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know!” Will answered without answering, as clueless as the rest of them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s like home, but it’s so dark… It’s so dark and empty. And it’s cold! Mom? Mom!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida swallowed and it hit like a rock in her churning stomach. Will was petrified of whatever was in there. She reached for El and yelped as the radio overheated, the back components engulfed in flames, smoke furling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dustin leapt into action, yanking the fire extinguisher off the wall to smother the flames, but not before the smoke detectors were triggered and the entire intercom system started blaring.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El dredged from her unconscious state in a dreary disarray. She was panting, delirious, her nose bleeding profusely. She couldn’t hold her head up and let it sway on her shoulders, wheezing lightly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“El! El, talk to me. What’s wrong?” Frida hovered, gently touching her face to reel her back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“El, are you okay?” Will asked, giving her a hand. “Can you move?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida’s heart sunk when El was unable to answer. She locked eyes with Frida, pinning her gaze for a long moment before breaking away, clinging to Frida for support.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here, help her up.” Mike slipped El’s left arm over his neck and Frida did the same with her right, heaving her up onto her feet and assisting her out the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frida felt a wash of dread like nothing else as they burst into the busy halls, the alarm ringing in her ears.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I have to say this was one of my favourite chapters to read a lot, having read it multiple times a well. :)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you enjoyed the first chapter as much as I did when i got it the first time, I loved it so much and wanted so share, of course I had gotten permission to do so. :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>